


Growing Strong

by captainenvy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Family Fluff, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 06:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7089007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainenvy/pseuds/captainenvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quiet, kind Sansa is entering Junior Year at King's Landing High with high hopes for her future, with romance far off her radar. But everything changes when the high school Queen Bee, Margaery Tyrell, starts to get closer.  // An High School AU with loads of fluff and just a teeny bit of angst. This is a coming of age story that hopes to get a smile on your face :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. September, part I

Even though the clock had struck eleven long ago, Sansa was too wired to sleep. Classes were starting the next day, and she was excitedly re-reading school flyers for the hundredth time over. “The Importance of High School Junior Year”, “Ten AP classes you _NEED_ to take Junior Year”, “Why take AP classes ?” and “Advice from a Dean of Admissions on selecting Junior Classes” were the ones she had read the most this summer, and the ones she knew by heart now; and yet these were the ones she was reading again tonight. She had finished her summer homework early in July, in between her dance lessons and taking care of her younger siblings – and she had basically been bored since. She was one of the lucky few people who hadn't had to work during the summer, although she probably would have preferred to : her little sister Arya, who had entered high school this morning, had driven her crazy for two months straight, and it was a miracle that the both of them were still alive.

Sansa sighed, and focused her attention back on the leaflets in front of her. She had struggled in choosing her classes, wondering which would interest her most but would still look amazing on her college application. Robb and Jon, both in their senior year, had tried to steer her in the right direction, but they were widely different from her; and, even though she loved them both to bits, they had been rubbish at helping her. Jon hated the single AP he had taken – AP Biology – and Robb, while a good student, knew that his shot at getting into college did not lie in AP classes, but in the soccer team. In the end, she'd chosen four AP classes : World History, Psychology, High Valyrian and Politics. She made a quick prayer to the Mother to let it be enough for her college of choice: Targaryen University, right here in the capitol, also known as the most selective university in the country. And, unfortunately, one of the most expensive. Money had never been a problem for the Starks, but still – she really felt that she should have worked this summer.

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?”

A soft whisper from outside seeped through her open window, making Sansa jump on her chair. She frowned and looked at the clock. 11.35pm. _What the - ?_

“It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, who is already sick and pale with grief that thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.”

Recognizing her brother's voice, Sansa chuckled. Robb often sneaked out of the house after dinner, sometimes with Jon – although rarely -, sometimes to see his girlfriend Jeyne – they had been together for two years now -, sometimes because he just needed to be outside of the Winterfell estate. She'd never seen him come home drunk, or stoned, and never after midnight; even in rebelliousness, the older Stark child was reasonable.

Every time he would sneak out, Grey Wind, his Husky – each Stark child had a dog, a tradition in their household – would come lie next to her own dog, Lady, an English Foxhound, and they all waited for Robb, who would come home passing through Sansa's window. It was their ritual, once or twice a week, and sometimes, Jon sat with Sansa, reading, as they waited for their brother's appearance.

“Really, Robb ?” she softly exclaimed while her brother appeared through the window. “Shakespeare ?”

“What's wrong with Shakespeare ?” Robb was grinning as he came up to her, kissing her at the top of her head. “Gods. Please tell me you're not reading those leaflets again.”

Sansa quickly tidied up her desk.

“Well, since I can't count on my brothers, I have to do _something_.”

Robb laughed as he sat on the edge of her bed, Grey Wind trotting to him for a cuddle.

“Yes. Talk to somebody else, ask a teacher, but don't read the same four pages over and over. What are you waiting for, some new magical words to appear ?”

“That would be amazing, yes.”

Robb snorted. “It's not going to. So just put them in the trash or I will.”

Sansa hesitated. True, she did know them all by heart now, but they still provided some comfort – amid all the nervousness, that is. She groaned in protestation.

“Do it.” Robb insisted, staring as she finally gathered them all up and put them in her garbage can.

“Happy ?”

Robb giggled. “Very.”

With a last scratch to Lady's ear and an another kiss on the top of Sansa's head, Rob wished her good night. He was already half out the door when he poked his head back.

“And don't go rummaging through your garbage.”

Sansa threw a pillow at the door, making Lady get up and chase it, and smiled to herself. She glanced at the can, seriously considering going back to get the flyers. She shook her head.

“I need to go to bed.”

* * *

 

When her alarm went off the next morning, Sansa had actually been awake for a solid ten minutes, cuddling with her dog, and smiling at the rising sun. The first day of a new school year had always made her feel the same way : excited, nauseated, scared – but in a really good way. She rubbed Lady's belly.

“Shall we go down and eat ?”

Familiar with the family's routine, Lady jumped out of bed, wiggling her tail wildly. Sansa giggled, sliding an oversize sweater on top of her pyjamas – Jon's, now pulling apart at the seams – and putting on her slippers. The other five family dogs, all used to the routine too, were waiting for her down the stairs, and started jumping and crying when they saw her, making Sansa giggle. She petted Maggot, the family's old cat, as she passed him on top of the fridge, and fed everyone before setting up the table.

Mornings were Sansa's favourite time of the day – every day held the same pattern, no matter how crazy things got the day before and would get during the day. Sansa was usually up first, and she fed the pets; Sansa's parents, Catelyn and Eddard, would usually come down ten minutes after her, followed by a sleepy Jon awaken by the smell of coffee; Robb, in shorts and t-shirts no matter the weather, always rose fifteen minutes after Sansa, and would be the one taking the dogs outside as he jogged before breakfast. They worked like a well oiled machine, no matter how tired or awake they were, and Sansa knew in her heart that these were the moments that counted, the moments that glued them into family. Every morning, she fed Maggot and the dogs, set up the table, ate her breakfast with her parents and Jon, got dressed for school, woke her three younger siblings with a kiss before she left. The fact that this was their last year all together made it extremely bittersweet, but there was simply no avoiding it – they all had to grew up and leave the nest at some point, right ? Sometimes she wished they didn't have to, that the children would stay children, that her mum and dad no longer grew grey hairs, that her and Robb and Jon would stay this close forever. Sometimes she wished she were far from this house, however; but that was only when Arya was being bratty, and entitled, and when their parents sided with her little sister. She always regretted feeling this way after, though.

“Good morning, Junior.”

Sansa smiled as Jon kissed her cheek then walked straight to the coffee pot.

“Morning Senior.”

Unlike Robb – who was already jogging down the stairs, sending the dogs into a frenzy – Jon was not her biological brother. He had been adopted by her parents when both he and Robb were babies, and Sansa still very young in her mother's womb, her parents having been very close to his. But, even though Catelyn and Ned had never said, both Robb and Sansa knew Jon was a Stark through and through, since he looked more like their father than neither of them.

“Ready for today ?” Jon asked over his steaming mug, Robb hugging her from behind.

“I'm so nervous I feel like I may vomit.” she joked.

“Yeah, I'm leaving before I have to clean that up.” Robb joked, patting Jon on the back with a huge grin before opening the door.

Jon smiled in his cup and Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Good morning, children.”

“Morning.”

“Good morning, dad.”

It had always made her smile, how formal their father was. His back was always straight, his face stern, his gaze even; and yet he was warm and loving, despite what everyone said or thought. He and her mother made a great team, having brought them all up to be hard working, open to others, and most importantly, they had been the ones moulding them into family. She would forever be grateful to them.

Eddard Stark was the country's prime minister, having been elected four years ago – he had been the reason they had all moved from Winterfell to the South – and, if anything, he had tried teaching his children that honour and honesty were the best policies, but Sansa was now old enough to see that it was simply not the case, and that, to be on top; as their dad was, sometimes you had to play dirty. She had accepted that, but she still had trouble reconciling the two. Her mum, Catelyn, stayed at home and took take of Arya, Bran and Rickon, occasionally helping their father, supporting him in what he did, but now that Rickon was old enough to go to school, Sansa had a feeling their mother would try and get back to work. She used to run a charity, a small shop where people would either give their unwanted or unneeded things or buy them for cheap – a thrift store where all proceeds went to feeding and housing the homeless.

 

Catelyn was the one bringing the three youngest Starks to school in the mornings, but it had always been Jon driving Robb and Sansa – which made it even more surprising to her when she was handed the keys to the car.

“What is this ?”

She was frowning, but her scepticism was met only with amusement on her brothers' side.

“You did get your license this summer, right ? Time to put it to good use.”

“Time for you to drive _us._ ” added Robb, with a goofy grin.

Each took his place in the car as Sansa rolled her eyes – Jon shotgun, Robb behind her .

“Can we pick Jeyne up on the way ?” Robb asked as Sansa was pulling out the driveway.

“So you can make out in the back seat ? Absolutely not.”

“Oh come on, we're not that bad.”

Sansa glanced at Jon who in turn gazed at her, trying to hold back a smile, before they both burst into giggles.

“What ?” indignantly exclaimed Robb.

“You guys are the worst !” Sansa almost shouted.

“Any place where the two of you sit next to each other turns into PDA Central.” Jon added.

“Besides, I want to keep my breakfast down, and the two of you slurping each other's tongues is not going to help achieve that.” Sansa piled on.

Jon erupted into laughter as Robb lifted an eyebrow.

“We do not _slurp_ each other.”

“You kind of do.”

“So, is that a no on the Jeyne issue ?”

“No !” both teens in the front exclaimed, with a smile on their face.

Robb took his phone out and started texting, only the shadow of a smirk on his lips. “I'm totally blaming the two of you if she's mad at me.”

Robb and Jon were wildly different – Robb was a jock, the popular guy with a cheerleader girlfriend; Jon was a loner, quiet and calm – but they had always felt closer to each other than they had anybody else, except for of course Sansa. The three of them loved their younger siblings to death, and would protect them at all costs; but they had always been a trio, sharing the same room as they were kids – although not officially at first, but, according to their mum, she'd always find Jon and Robb sleeping next to Sansa's crib when she was a baby, prompting Catelyn to create a bedroom wide enough to fit the three of them. That bedroom had become Sansa's over the years, and it still bared the drawings Jon had made all over the walls. As long as she could remember, Sansa had never felt jealous of Robb and Jon's relationship; she knew it didn't take anything away from her relationship to her brothers, and neither had they. Simply thinking that Jon and Robb would be leaving her soon was enough to make her cry. All their lives, it had been 'take one, have the other two', even though Sansa was a year younger, even though Jon and Robb shared no classes, even though they almost never passed each other in the hallways, she knew she was part of a trio that simply would never break up. They did, last year, have lunch once together at school, on Wednesdays – a rag tag team consisting of Robb's soccer team, Jon's art club, and Sansa's friends – and that had been Sansa's favourite day of the week all year. Of course, it had helped that Wednesday was student council day, which was her third favourite thing in the world after her family and her dog.

Both in school and student council, Sansa had a few friends; she was friendly to everyone, mind you, or at least she tried – some made it extremely difficult – but she had trouble connecting with many of them. That, however, hadn't been the case when she had met Ygritte.

Ygritte had arrived at King's Landing High at the beginning of their freshman year, her parents moving all the way from the North to the capital so that she could have the best education possible, and all the doors open when it came to her future. The two of them had instantly bonded over the colour of their hair, their love of food and their deep hatred of King's Landing humid heat. She had been the one signing Sansa up for Student Government -”There's no way I'm swimming with the sharks alone.”- and, this summer, they had gotten together to chose their AP classes. They had had their result a few days back, and had spent the morning aggressively texting each other about how happy they were. Ygritte wanted to change the world, and she wanted to start by changing men's views about women in politics, maybe become prime minister, help the poor, educate the children. Every summer since she had moved to King's Landing, Ygritte had volunteered in an orphanage in Flea Bottom, even earning an award for her work. Cersei Lannister, their Queen, had been the one awarding it to her, even though she looked like she'd rather touch a goat; and Sansa and Ygritte had had a good laugh about it afterwards.

Except for a few mean nicknames hushed behind their backs, high school had so far been pretty easy for both the girls. Sansa was protected by her last name, her brothers, and her unstoppable kindness; Ygritte, on the other hand, simply owned everything she did and everything she was, which had meant that all mockery had died fairly early on when they saw that she would laugh along with it. Together, they tried to help those who were bullied, always having an extra set of clothes when in gym class, just in case; having a special reserve of tampons and pads for any girl that might need it last minute, etc. They did everything that they could, everything that they could think of, and Ygritte had even given them superhero nicknames, derived from the mean ones they'd heard of themselves : they were Red and the Ice Queen. Sansa loved people, all kinds of people, but it was in Ygritte that she saw the best of them.

“You will never believe who is teaching AP Politics.”

Ygritte had almost jumped on her as she arrived at their shared locker.

“An actual real politician ?” Sansa postulated, trying to navigate through her best friend's mess.

“Surprisingly yes.” Ygritte was grinning from ear to ear. “But not just a politician. A Rock Star.”

Sansa almost slammed the locker shut, recognizing at once Ygritte's nickname for the government's official representative.

“No way.”

“Oh, yes ma'am. We're getting a class taught by Tyrion freaking Lannister.”

“What's up with Tyrion Lannister ?” Mya, another junior with whom both Sansa and Ygritte were friends, inquired as she leaned next to them.

“He's going to be teaching AP politics.” Ygritte exclaimed, her fiery red hair bouncing on her shoulders as she tremble with excitement.

“You guys got into AP politics ?” Mya's eyebrows went up in surprise. “I heard it was extremely hard to get in.”

“Well, that's not surprising if a government official is teaching.” Sansa shrugged. “They wouldn't have him teach a bunch of high schoolers who are simply there for the college credit.”

In the small world of King's Landing politics, there was no one more infamous than Tyrion Lannister. Despite his short stature – as he would put it -, Tyrion was a very successful ladies man, regularly seen in gossip magazines with models, actresses, socialites. There was even a rumour going around that he could charm the pants off of any girl given twenty minutes alone with her, which sent Ygritte wild whenever she heard it. Sansa, however, admired him for his perseverance and his determination. Having grown up in this world, she knew just how much crap he had put up with from his family, and surely still put up with. But no matter what was being said behind his back or to his face, Tyrion Lannister kept on going, and he was easily the more accomplished Lannister besides his father. He had been the youngest graduate to come out of Targaryen University for Politics – the school she dreamed of attending -, and also his class valedictorian before moving on to government and entering the world of politics through the biggest door there is : her own father, seeing the potential in him, had named him parliamentary under-secretary of state, which meant that he was doing most of the secretary's work but reaped none of the benefits. But he kept quiet, he worked his butt off, and he was incredibly loyal to her father.

“Just how did they get Tyrion Lannister to teach a class to a bunch of sixteen year-olds ?” Mya frowned in surprise.

Sansa shrugged as Ygritte responded.

“Maybe he fell for the classic lie : 'they are the future of this bright nation'.”

“Or maybe he has a thing for sixteen year-olds.” Mya japed, her sentence earning her groans of disgust from her friends.

“Gods, I hope not.”

The bell started to ring as Sansa closed her locker, and she turned to Ygritte. “What class do you have first ?”

“Let me check-” Ygritte got out her schedule, and Sansa tried to read it upside down. “Honors Bio. Fun.”

Sansa giggled. “I've got AP High Valyrian first period.”

“Oooh, just as fun. I'll see you at lunch, okay ?”

“See you.”

She blew a kiss to her friend, then hurried along the corridors to find her class.

* * *

 

On Mondays and Fridays, last period of the day, Sansa, Ygritte, Mya and along twenty other students participated in student government. Both Sansa and Ygritte had been part of it since freshman year, and they had loved every minute of it. This year, just as last year, the council was led by Margaery Tyrell, now a senior, and a bright and energetic president. She'd launched five different campaigns to better the school so far : promoting sports and its benefits, cleaning the river that crossed King's Landing, a charity bake sale, a charity marathon – which Robb had won – and, Sansa's particular favourite, she'd coordinated a fundraiser for Flea Bottom Orphanage, the very same one Sansa's mother used to work at. She had tried to help as much as she could for any of them, but the last one had felt like one of her own projects, and she, along Margaery, had devoted all her time and energy to it for weeks.

Sansa had met up with Ygritte in front of their allotted classroom, and the both of them had taken a seat in the middle section – as they had done since freshman year – and excitedly chatted as they waited for it to start. Almost everyone was there – Sansa had noticed Margaery and her vice-president as she got in -, but Mya wasn't.

“I'm texting her.” Ygritte stated, getting her phone out of her bag.

“Hi girls.”

Sansa's head shot up as she recognized Margaery's voice.

“I was hoping you guys would be back again.”

The Tyrell girl smiled first at Ygritte, then at Sansa, which made her blush a little. She smiled back quickly before looking down again.

“Happy to be back.” Ygritte joked. “We couldn't wait for another year, to be honest.”

“Neither could I.” Margaery laughed. “Hey, Ygritte, do you mind if I borrowed your friend for a second ?”

Sansa blushed redder.

“Not at all, I actually have a text to send.” She smiled and left the classroom.

Margaery took the opportunity to sit next to Sansa, smiling sweetly at her, and Sansa hoped to the Gods that she couldn't see how much of an effort it was just to look her in the eye and not run away.

“So how was your summer ?” she asked, just to get rid of the silence.

Margaery's smile turned into a grin. “Oh, it was amazing. I went to Lys and did some volunteer work there. The people were so nice and the food was so good ! Plus, there were so many of us that we managed to build an entire village, including a way to supply them with both water and electricity.”

“Sounds cool.”

“It was ! You'd have loved it.”

Sansa giggled.

“What about you, what did you do this summer ?”

“Um-” _Exactly how do I measure up to that ?_ Sansa felt nervous all of a sudden, but tried to hide it as best she could. “I mostly took care of my younger siblings. I took a few college classes, worked with my mum a little. Nothing major.”

“Oh, nice. What college classes did you take ?”

“I took a class called “Global health: inequality, culture, and human well-being around the world”, another called “Introduction to sociology”, I took “Foreign Policy” and “The politics of Inequality”.”

“Wow. Where ?” Margaery looked genuinely interested.

“Crimson U.”

“Nice.” Margaery scooted closer to her, and Sansa swallowed.

“Listen-” the older girl started, “I'm glad to see you're back to student council.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Sansa looked up at the senior, smiling a little. She hoped to the Gods Margaery didn't notice how she twisted her hands, that she couldn't see how intimidated she was.

Ever since they'd met in her freshman year, Margaery had always had that effect on Sansa. Not because she was unfriendly, no; in fact, she gave Sansa quite a run for her money for the title of kindest student. She simply had an amazing presence, and no one could help but stare as she walked by, or listen as she spoke, and Sansa was just one in a long line. When Ygritte and her had joined student gov., Margaery had been more than helpful, and she had been more than welcoming. No matter how stupid Sansa felt as she spoke to her, the other girl had never picked on her or played pranks, she had simply tried to make her feel more at ease.

Margaery scooted even closer, and suddenly Sansa could smell her body lotion – something woody -, which caused her heart to beat a little faster.

“This is my last year here, and in a few weeks we'll have candidates for a new president.” Margaery lifted an eyebrow. “Now, I know Ygritte wants to run, and she should – but I was hoping you would, too.”

Sansa blinked a few times, then frowned. She was certain she had misunderstood the meaning. “I'm sorry ?”

“I would very much like to endorse you, if you ran.”

Sansa couldn't think of anything to say, so she just sat there in utter disbelief until Margaery put her hand on Sansa's arm.

“I think you would make a wonderful president. You had good ideas last year, most notably your anti-bullying campaign. You are incredibly kind, you care about everything and everyone, and you're a hard worker.”

“How do you know these things ?” Sansa inquired, flabbergasted that Margaery had paid that much attention to her.

Margaery laughed. “We've been seeing each other for at least three hours a week for the last three years. I've noticed you.”

Sansa went scarlet, and Margaery squeezed her arm gently.

“Just think about it, okay ? For me ?”

“Okay.”

With a last bright smile, Margaery got up and got back to her friends, merely seconds before Ygritte sat back down next to Sansa.

“What was that about ?” she inquired.

“I'm not entirely sure.” Sansa answered, still surprised by Margaery's statement.

“Excuse me.” In the front of the room, Margaery was standing, facing all of them, asking for their attention. “Welcome back, council.” She grinned. “As you know, it is the privilege of the president to deliver a speech at the beginning of the school year, to rally their troops and lift their spirits. Now, I don't know if mine will, but here goes.”

She took a deep breath, looking at every single one of them individually with a smile on her lips.

“For some of us, myself included, this is our last year at KL High – which means this is our last year to make a difference. For some of you, this is your first year here, and you're looking for a place to belong, a place to accept you for who you are. During my four years here, student council has been that place. No matter the colour of your skin, no matter who you love, no matter what you love, student council is the place for you, if you want it, of course.” She giggled softly. “For some of you, this year is the year you shine.” She looked directly at Sansa, which caused her insides to warm up, and she couldn't help but smile. “For others, this year is the year you find yourself.” She looked at some freshmen, who looked afraid and incredibly small. “No matter your goal, let's make this year count. Okay ?”

The end of her speech was met with vigorous applause and some cheering, and Margaery laughed.

* * *

 

“Good morning class.”

Sansa and Ygritte had had to wait until Friday to finally get AP Politics, the class they – along with the rest of the students who got in – were most dying to have. Everyone had arrived at least ten minutes early – Sansa had had to rush Jon and Robb, threatening to leave without them and let them take the bus – and yet, Tyrion Lannister was already there, reading a book by his desk. Passing in front of him had send Sansa and Ygritte into fangirl frenzy, and they had had a lot of trouble keeping it in, at least until he had gotten up to speak.

He was scanning the room from the board, looking at each of them individually for a second or two, then looked down at his class chart.

“I have been told that the lot of you are the brightest of students here. That you have the most potential.”

Sansa swallowed with difficulty. _Now, that was pressure_.

“Looking at you, I see that you are all impatient to begin, but you will all have to wait a little longer.”

Everyone was drinking in his words, some almost reverently, and some were nodding along as he spoke.

“Out of the twenty students I see before me, fourteen are seniors, whose college applications are already ready to go. It is my duty to tell each and everyone of you that, no matter what was advertised, this class will _not_ help you get any more college credit.”

There was a murmur crossing the class as students gasped.

“So for those of you who have chosen this course simply for how well it will look, please leave the class. I have heard this morning that many science classes were not full – I am sure they will give you the credit you deserve, and look for. Thank you. I will be seeing the rest of you next week at eight thirty.”

And, with this last statement, Tyrion picked up his book and left the class, leaving the door open and twenty students agape. Sansa heard Ygritte exclaim softly next to her, and, at the front of the class, she distinctly heard Margaery go : “Holy crap.”

_I can't wait till next Friday_ , Sansa thought with a smile. _This year is going to be epic !_

 


	2. September, part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys seem to enjoy the premise, and I hope you guys will love this chapter too ! I'm hoping to get a chapter out every two weeks, but with work coming up, I might not be able to. Nevertheless, I'll try my hardest to keep bringing the fluff ! Enjoy !

Eddard Stark surprised his eldest daughter that Friday night when he knocked on her bedroom door around 10 pm. Sansa had been reading in her chair, windows opened to wait for Robb, the two dogs sleeping soundly on the floor.

“May I come in ?” Eddard peeked his head inside.

“Sure, yes.” Sansa closed her book. “Is something wrong ?”

Catelyn and Ned had attended a charity dinner that night, and her father was still in his tuxedo when he came in. He sat down on the end of her bed, facing her, loosening his bowtie.

“I had an interesting conversation with Tyrion Lannister tonight.”

 _Oh, crap._ Sansa could feel her cheeks starting to flush as she realized just where her father was going with this.

“He says he's very happy to have you in his class. He hopes you won't be part of the students who only seek college credit, and will therefore leave.”

“Dad-”

“Why haven't you told me about this, Sansa ? Or told your mother ?”

For Sansa, the worst thing about being scolded by her father was that he never raised his voice. He was always steady, and soft-spoken, and he never lost his cool. It made her very anxious, and it was the primary reason why she tried so hard to be a good child – so that he would never scold her like this.

“I didn't think you'd approve.”

“So you chose to hide it from us instead.”

Sansa looked down at the grown, feeling shameful and filled with regret. When she had applied for a spot in this class, she had been sure she wasn't going to make the cut, and so telling her parents had been out of the question, at least until the answer was a definitive one. And once she had gotten in, well – she had started to wonder if telling her parents was a good idea. After all, they had spent their children's childhoods trying to keep them away from this world, to shelter them. To enter it, even though it was something that she really wanted, felt like she was spitting in her parents' face.

“I'm sorry.”

“Were you planning on telling us ?”

Sansa hesitated. “Yes, of course. I just – I didn't know how. I was scared you'd make me quit.”

“Is that something I usually do ?” He seemed surprised at her words, a little bit hurt, too.

“No, but-”

“Then why would this have been different ?”

“Because it's your world, and maybe you think I don't belong in it.”

Her father stayed silent for a while, examining her. Sansa felt like a fool.

“Come here.” he finally stated.

They both got up, and she practically ran into his open arms. He hugged her tight for a few seconds, kissing the top of her head, then pushed her away so that he could look at her, his hands on her arms.

“You're my daughter. You are my world, first and foremost. But you need to tell us what's going on with you, otherwise we can't help, no matter how much we may want to.”

“Are you mad ?”

“We're hurt. We're sorry you feel like you can't be yourself with us, like we wouldn't approve of your choices.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you.”

Ned took a deep breath, letting go of his daughter to sit back down, gesturing her to sit down next to him.

“Tell me why you wanted to take the class.”

“Well – You know about the classes I took this summer, right ?” Sansa paused as her father nodded. “They all said that AP Politics was a smart, reasonable choice towards University, and they also said that it was interesting and one of the most well-thought out curriculum at KL High. It was a smart choice for Targaryen U.”

“Do you want to work in politics, Sansa ?”

Contrary to what she would have thought, the answer came to her right away.

“No, I don't. But I want to work closely with politicians, so it might help to know their agendas.”

Ned laughed. “Smart girl.” He got up. “I hope the class will meet your expectations. Until then, you should go to bed. Good night.”

“Good night.”

She watched her father start to leave, then exclaimed as he opened the door : “Margaery Tyrell wants me to run for student body president. She says she would endorse me.”

Ned Stark turned to his daughter. “Is that something you want to do ?”

“I don't know. I'm not sure I'd be good at it.”

“Sansa. From the moment you first opened your eyes to this day, there is nothing I've not seen you succeed at.”

Sansa looked down at her sheets, panic starting to rise in her throat. She didn't agree with her father, not on this, as she knew herself to be quite different from the girl he was describing – but Ned Stark was not done.

“You may not succeed right away, and sometimes you get it wrong. But you try. You try until you get it right. It's something I quite admire in you.”

Her head jerked back up as she was surprised by the compliment. “Thank you.”

“I love you, and I will be there for you, no matter what you do. All right ?”

Sansa nodded, smiling a little. “I love you too.”

“And tell your brother to get his butt back home. It's getting late.” he winked at Sansa before closing the door behind him.

Sansa giggled.

 

* * *

 

The Stark family's week-ends were always packed with activities. Arya was a competitive pony rider – and she was quite good at it, too –, took classes on Saturdays and won championships on Sundays. According to Catelyn, there was even talk of letting her compete further, which of course sent Arya into a frenzy – she wanted to make the national pony team before the end of the year, and this would be one step closer to achieving that goal. Bran used to rock climb, but, due to a very severe fall the year before which had left his spine bruised and his legs paralysed for a solid ten weeks and a very severe fright, he had decided to take up astronomy and science in general, and now spent his Saturdays at a school club with a physics teacher that showed the kids crazy experiments and taught them about a lot of boring stuff, at least in Arya's mind. Rickon was still too young, and had not quite settled down on one activity yet, so for him, every Saturday was a new adventure that Jon would take him on – he had tried soccer, music, dance, softball, arts and crafts, horse riding, bike riding, kayaking and swimming, all of which he had either loved or hated. This particular week-end, he was to try drums, much to his mother's dismay – and Sansa had a feeling this activity would stick. Robb, of course, would spend his week-end practising and going on games while Sansa took her piano and dance lessons, and sometimes met with the student council if they were in the middle of a campaign. Jon, on the other hand, was the only one not going to a class since his own hobby – drawing – was something that he liked doing on his own. So he took Rickon to classes, took Arya to her competitions, came to all their games, recitals, or exhibits with the biggest smile on his face.

On Sundays, every week, they all would prepare and have dinner together, parents and children. On most Sundays, it meant that Rickon and Bran would set up the table, Arya would make the salad with her mum, Sansa prepared dessert, Jon and Robb would make the main course, while their dad would cook the meat. Most of the time, they had a traditional meal – green salad, roast beef, mashed potatoes, pie - but sometimes Catelyn would challenge them, and they could end up eating Dornish food with way too much spice, Lysene food – which Jon had loved – or fish from the Bear Islands. Sometimes, Catelyn would invite Jeyne, so that she would start to feel like part of the family; but it was quite rare. To al of them, Sunday dinner felt like their thing, something to share just between the eight of them.

 

* * *

 

For Sansa, the second week of September passed without much excitement other than the news that Robb had been chosen as soccer team captain and the anticipation of getting her second AP Politics class. That Friday, she had, much to her brothers' grouching, insisted they left home early so that she could be among the first in class.

“This is going to be like this every Friday, isn't it ?” had sighed Robb, while Jon had very visibly yawned in her face.

“You'd have to wake even earlier if you took the bus. Now come on, we have to go.”

Catelyn and Ned watched them go with amused expressions on their face, probably waiting for them to be out the door to shake their head and chuckle.

She had met up with Ygritte in the front hall, and they had both eagerly half walked, half ran to the classroom where Tyrion Lannister was already seated, along with a few other students.

“Good morning, Miss Stark. Miss Snow.”

“Morning.” both girls chirped in unison before sitting down.

They waited until everyone had arrived and until the bell had rung, then Sansa was sure that their seventeen gazes had fallen on Tyrion at the same moment.

“Well, then.” Tyrion got up, closed the door, then looked around at the class, lingering as he passed a face. “Seventeen.” He chuckled. “I didn't think I would lose only three of you. I'm glad, though.”

Sansa frowned. _He had been expecting us to drop out ?_

“Let's get started.” he cleared his throat, leisurely pacing between the student's desks. “In this class, you will learn some of the harshest realities that you will have to face if politics is really what you want to do. You will be expected to think for yourself, to be able to argue your way out of any situation, and to be able to comprehend quickly, and adapt even quicker. I am not here to just hold your hand and give you college credit – I am here to open your eyes and make sure you know exactly what you've gotten yourselves into. Any questions ?”

Ygritte's hand immediately went up.

“Yes, miss Snow.”

“I thought the class wouldn't earn us any college credit.”

“Not the class in itself, no. I, however, will choose to give you some – or not.”

“So you lied to us.” a student in the back frowned.

Tyrion smirked. “Actually, I did not. I twisted reality to suit my agenda.” He stood before all of them, his hands in his pockets. “Welcome to politics.”

He spent the remainder of the class talking to them about their exams, their finals, various types of homework and assignment he would give them, and the general idea of what the class would be. With every word he uttered, Sansa felt more and more overwhelmed, but, if anything, she was a dedicated student, and she would not let one man see her fail. If she succeeded in impressing Tyrion Lannister – which she would – then maybe she would augment her chances at going to Targaryen University.

“Oh, and one last thing before I let you all go.” Tyrion said, abut five minutes before the bell was supposed to ring. “Some of you know that, when I am not here on Friday mornings, I work in the secretary of State's offices, here in King's Landing. Not a very prestigious office” - Sansa almost snorted in disagreement - “but right dab in the middle of government work. And we are officially looking for an intern for the summer.”

The whole class let out a gasp of surprise.

“Mind you, it will be a lot of fetching coffee and making copies,” Tyrion continued as though there had been no interruption, “but you will work with me, and you will attend some very important meetings with very important people. An excellent way to networking, and worm your way in, don't you think ? I will be making my choice between the seventeen of you, so I expect nothing but your best work in this class. Have a nice weekend.”

 

* * *

 

 

At King's Landing High, homecoming was a very important tradition; and the whole school worked as one to make sure the soccer game would be a huge success. The art club – of which Jon was a reluctant member – made banners and flags with the school colours, the cheerleaders and the band worked together to create a half-time number, the school radio promoted the game sponsors and hyped students all through the week, and the team was cheered wherever they went. Robb was at practice both before and after class, hell bent on winning his first game as captain, careful not to overwork his team, deciding who to bench and who to let play, appearing everywhere as introspective and distracted.

Even for the teens that did not belong to any of those clubs, the second part of September was a very busy two weeks. Pledge week was starting on Monday, and all the clubs needed to attend a booth throughout the week to promote themselves in order to make sure freshmen could join if they wanted to. The whole student council had been hard at work for the creation and decoration of theirs, and Sansa had spent almost an hour every night with Margaery, Ygritte, Myrcella and Elinor – both freshmen themselves – trying to make sure they had a schedule ready, that they would have goodies to give out, and, most importantly, that everyone had talking points when they would hold the booth. Aside from that, Ygritte and Sansa were preparing for their SATs and PSATs which were both taking place in the fall, which made Sansa quite glad that her brother came home later than usual, so that she could study at the Library. Margaery had offered to help them, but had lately been overflowed with practice tests, various homework, and her duties as student council president, and so far had been unable to fulfill that promise.

On Tuesday, after her piano class, Sansa had retreated back to the library, hoping to get some quality time with some encyclopedias before her brother came around to take them both home. She loved school, and spending more time on campus was not a problem for her, but she had started to really feel the pressure lately. Ygritte and her had barely spoken of anything else but school, student council or the game since last week, and the two combined were starting to make feel a little claustrophobic. But she wanted to do better than well, and so she devoted all of her energy towards acing the tests – everything else would just have to wait a while. She was trying to memorize her maths lessons when Robb practically fell down on the chair next to hers.

“Joffrey Baratheon is going to drive me insane.”

Looking up from the book, Sansa lifted an eyebrow. “What's he done now ?”

Joffrey Baratheon was a junior like herself, and the future King of Westeros – that is, if no one decided to exile him first. He was Queen Cersei's firstborn, and by far her favourite; and everyone knew it. He was, at least in Sansa's opinion, an awful boy, a cruel, vicious masquerade of a prince that took pleasure in seeing others fail; but he also was part of Robb's soccer team. He was a 'defending midfielder', which apparently meant something - Robb had explained to her a few times already-, and he was quite good at it, too.

“He's pissed that he hasn't been made captain. Refuses to take my orders and disrupts practice every five minutes.”

“Sorry.” Sansa tried to smile, closing the books before her. “Can't you bench him ?”

“Not my call.” Robb sighed. “Beside, coach Clegane already tried, and he's almost been suspended for it.”

“Seriously ?”

“Yeah. The principal called him into his office and apparently the queen was there, and explained to them in details what would happen to the school if they ever benched him again. I'm stuck with him for the rest of the season.”

“Unless he gets hurt.” Sansa lifted her eyebrows up and down a few times, making Robb chuckle. “Seriously, though, you should try making him feel like the puppet master. Like the glue that holds the team together. Like being captain sucks because there's so many things to do that you can't concentrate on actually playing well. Make him feel like, if he plays along, he could be the star of the season.”

“That's genius.” Robb straightened up.

“Isn't it, though ?” Sansa laughed as she cleaned the table. “Come on, let's go home. I'm starving.”

 

* * *

 

 

Come Friday, Robb insisted that they be at least twenty minutes early so that he could start the day with a strategy meeting with his team, and so Sansa ended up being the first student in politics class. Even Tyrion was nowhere to be found, she realized when she came in, her travel mug in hand. She sat in her usual spot and took her PSAT prep book out of her bag, slowly drinking as she read, letting the hot coffee warm her and wake her from the inside out.

“Miss Stark.”

Sansa looked up from her book, surprised by her teacher. It took her a second to place him, having been so engrossed in the pages to have heard him come in, then greeted him in response.

“It is heart-warming to see the interest you take in the class.”

Sansa blushed in confusion as she wondered if the man opposite her was making fun of her.

“Actually, my brother Robb made us arrive really early so that he could have a meeting with his team.”

“So nothing to do with my teaching.” Tyrion exclaimed in mock pain. “How devastating.”

Sansa fought the urge to roll her eyes as her teacher continued.

“But that's all right, since it actually helps my agenda : I did want to get a minute with you privately.”

She frowned, suddenly remembering that she was indeed alone with Tyrion Lannister – and all the rumours circulating about him. Her heart started beating faster as she fought to control her breathing, trying to focus on him and not let her rising panic get in the way and convince herself that she was much too young for him to want to seduce. Too young, and too much her father's daughter : Ned Stark was sure to ruin him if he ever tried anything. Sansa hid behind this belief as Tyrion walked to her and leaned on a chair, leaving only a desk between them.

“I wanted to apologize for spelling the beans about your presence in this class to your parents.”

“Oh.” Realizing that the teacher only wanted to alleviate his guilt made her feel better on the spot, as if her airway had magically opened up again. “Thank you, but that's all right. You couldn't have known.”

“May I ask you something ?”

“Sure.” She hid her hands on her lap, the remnant of her nerves still clinging in her belly.

“Why didn't you tell them ?”

Sansa looked down for a second, hesitating, wondering if she should tell him the truth, before she looked back up at him.

“My father is a great politician, and so was his brother, his father _and_ his grandfather. Plus, I think it's obvious to everybody that I'm not the strongest personality in my family. That I'm just a girl who wants to swim with sharks. That I might not be the right person to take on the legacy.” She swallowed, hard, trying to keep it together. She had never voiced those concerns out loud before, and hearing them now felt immensely difficult. “I was afraid that my father would feel like I would only disappoint him by going down this path. That I wasn't good enough.”

Tyrion stared at her for what felt like years before he spoke.

“Miss Stark, what do you see when you look at me ?”

Sansa frowned. “I'm sorry ?”

“Tell me what you see when you look at me.”

Tyrion seemed very calm, very quiet, but Sansa had no idea what answer he wanted her to give, if there even was a right one.

“Um – My teacher ?”

Tyrion chuckled very quietly. “Yes, sure. What else ?”

“A politician ? A man ? A, a – Targaryen University's youngest valedictorian ?”

In front of her, Tyrion Lannister lifted an eyebrow.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to say here.” she almost stammered.

“No, you're right. I am all those things. And yet, when he looks at me, my father only ever sees my height and my potential for failure.”

“Oh.” For a split second before Tyrion spoke again, all that she wanted was to turn into mice and hide in a hole in the wall.

“Don't worry, I'm not telling you this to make you feel uncomfortable. I'm just trying to show you that parental support, even though it would be more than welcome in both our cases, is not needed. You may succeed in whatever you set your mind to it, Sansa. With or without your father's approval.”

“It's not about getting his approval.”

“Isn't it ?” Tyrion was gazing at her fixedly, and she had to avert her eyes, wondering if he was right.

“I wouldn't worry about it, though.” he continued, going back to his own desk at the front of the class. “Your father seems extremely enthusiastic about your prospects, at least when he and I talk about it.”

Sansa felt her cheeks redden, but was stopped for saying anything else by other students coming in and greeting Tyrion. She kept her teacher's words in mind throughout the day, though, and they made her smile every time.

 

* * *

 

Arya, Jon and Sansa were among the last to arrive at the game – Arya had insisted they go visit her pony before they went as she wanted to check that everything was ready for the morning when she would leave for Dorne for a national competition – and succeeded in finding three seats next to one another in the middle row. The stadium was full – the whole student body had come, bringing with them friends and family members; players from local teams had come to check out the first game of the season – homecoming wasn't until the day after for all other teams -; random people from King's Landing came, attracted by a good show and cheap fries. Everybody cheered as loud as they could during the first half of the game, chanting songs and anthems, yelling the names of the players, and generally making sure that their team knew they had supporters to back them up. Sansa, who knew nothing of the rules of the game despite the many times that Robb had tried teaching them to her, spent the first half of the game somewhat confused as to why people were cheering or groaning, but smiling, happy to be here with her siblings to watch her older brother do the thing that he loved most.

During half-time, Jon and Arya had gone to the concession stand to get something to eat and drink, while Sansa had kept their seats, scrolling through instagram, waiting for her siblings.

“Hi, Sansa.”

The Stark girl looked up from her phone, momentarily confused, then reddened slightly as she found herself faced with Margaery Tyrell's bright smile.

“Do you mind if I sit for a minute ?”

“Not at all, sure. Hi.”

She watched Margaery sit next to her, her entire body turned towards her.

“Are you enjoying the game ?” the older girl asked, making Sansa nod. “Me, too. Nothing like winning to get the blood pumping.” she giggled.

“Well, we're not winning yet.” Sansa corrected her.

“Have faith, young-un.”

Sansa laughed, shaking her head, then looked up to see Margaery staring at her, something crinkling in her eyes.

“I actually have an ulterior motive for coming here.” the senior began, and Sansa frowned a little. “I was wondering if you've thought about my proposal. For student council.”

Sansa gulped. She felt suddenly very nervous, afraid she would let down a girl she held into high esteem. “I have, actually.”

“And ?” Margaery seemed hopeful.

“I'm not going to run.”

It was Margaery's turn to frown as Sansa continued.

“Thank you for saying I'd be good at it and that you'd endorse me, but – it's not something I would enjoy. Running, I mean. I'd much rather help someone run.”

The Tyrell girl watched her silently for a few seconds, making Sansa feel more nervous, and she was clinging to her phone as though the world might be abut to burst.

“Okay.”

Sansa's eyebrows shot up. “Okay ?”

“Yeah.” she grinned. “I mean, of course I would have loved to leave KLH with you at the helm, but if it isn't something you want, I'm okay with that too.”

“Thank you.”

Margaery gazed at her for a second before reaching for Sansa's lap and taking her phone. Frowning, Sansa watched as she navigated her phone to enter her number into Sansa's contacts – with both a smiley face emoji and a heart emoji, making Sansa blush bright red – and texted herself Sansa's instagram and twitter usernames.

“You better follow me back, Stark.” she joked as she gave Sansa back her phone. “And bring your A game to school on Monday, because we're holding the booth together, and I've bet my friends I'd be the one getting the most signatures.”

“Deal.”

“Deal. Enjoy the game.”

As she left with a last wave and a last smile, Sansa was left with butterflies in her stomach; and she was still grinning when Jon and Arya returned with their hands full, and when the game started again.

 


	3. October

The last week of September passed in a flash, and Sansa was very surprised to see October start. It had been days since she had taken the time to look up from her books to just breathe, or be a kid, and she had very barely made it to the Stark family dinner last Sunday – her brothers had had to force the SATs prep books away from her hands to get her to come downstairs.

But now, the time had arrived for her and a handful of other juniors to sit first for their PSATs (the first Monday of October), then for the regular SATs with the rest of the junior class and a few seniors disappointed with their scores last year. Most students in her class walked the halls engrossed in books, in their notes, or in conversations with each other; and anybody could distinguish them from the rest of the student body thanks to their yawns, their dark circles under the eyes, or their overflowing school bags.

Robb and Jon remembered their own tests from the previous year, and they had made it their mission to help Sansa in any way she'd need : they would make her tea and bring it to her, they would quiz her whenever she wanted to be quizzed, they made sure the chores were done and the children fed, bathed and tended to before she could remember to do any of it, and they generally supported her when they felt she was starting to slip into too much self-doubt or insecurity. Jon even took the time to draw her small notes of encouragement on every one of her books and in her pencil case. They made it better, the whole endeavour, but Sansa still felt as though she could start to cry at any second – she felt a mix of fear, of nerves, of fatigue; and she felt much too ashamed to tell anybody.

It was the night before the PSATs, right after dinner, that Sansa caught a small break. She was trying to persuade herself to just take a bath and go to bed with her favourite novel – _Pride & Prejudice_ – instead of foolishly trying to study even though her head just wasn't in it when her phone started to ring. It gave her a fright, and she let out a shriek before sighing, and laughing at her own stupidity. She didn't bother checking the caller ID before answering, certain Ygritte was facing the same woes as she was.

“Hello ?”

“Hi.”

On the other end of the line, Margaery's voice felt small and unsure of itself, but Sansa still blushed and smiled.

“Is this a bad time ?” the older girl asked.

“No, no. I was just arguing with myself, you're not – hi.” Sansa felt breathless, but she couldn't really tell why – she felt giddy, and panicky, but excited at the same time.

“I was just calling because I know that tomorrow is test day, and I wanted to make sure you were taking it easy tonight. That you had everything you need.”

“Oh.”

Never in a million years would Sansa have thought that Margaery would have called – even thought she was very, very glad that she did.

They had started texting back and forth the morning after homecoming, after Sansa had finally snapped and texted her to say thank you for understanding why she wouldn't run. She had then, in turn, regretted her decision, tried to find a way – any way – to delete the text even though it was already sent, bit her nails one by one waiting for an answer, convinced herself she really didn't care if Margaery answered or not, turned off her phone to turn it back on a few minutes later, then left it in the bottom of her dance bag and tried to forget it for the rest of the day.

But by 5 pm, when she got home and everything got quiet, she heard the familiar chirp of her phone that indicated a new message. She wanted to play it cool, wait a while before she answered, but ended up not being able to wait as she found herself emptying her bag's content to the floor just before she went in to take a shower. She located her phone right away and woke it up to find out that, not only had Margaery answered – this morning, too – but she had texted her a couple more times in the afternoon. It was, or said, nothing major, but Sansa had spent her week-end glued to her phone when she really should have continued studying. She had expected it to be awkward on Monday when she saw Margaery on campus, but it had been anything but : the Tyrell girl had grinned at Sansa and said hello like they were two old friends,, and Sansa had spent the day feeling like she was floating on clouds.

They had continued texting, although less, throughout the week, about anything and everything. Sansa told her about her dog and her brothers and her hobbies; Margaery told her about her hopes and her family and their 'grand plan' to find her a 'suitable suitor'. The two girls found they had a lot of things in common, more than they had previously realized, and they found that talking to one another came easy because the other was interested and willing to listen. They would text jokes to each other and communicate only in emojis late in the night, send stupid snaps to each other while making faces – Margaery kept the funniest, she'd said, just so that she had leverage if she ever needed a favour – and generally started to go from almost friends to full-on _I swear to the Gods I'll murder you if you post that snap on instagram_ friends.

“Yeah, I think I'm – I think I'm all set.”

“Good. Because I did sit for the PSATs last year and, um, I could give you some tips. If you're interested.”

Sansa almost jumped at the opportunity. “Oh, Gods, yes. Please.” She heard Margaery giggle on the other end of the line and smiled, somehow proud to make her laugh.

“Well, I think the main thing that you've got to remember is that the PSATs are just an added bonus – if you don't do well in them, which I'm sure won't apply to you, well, nothing's lost. It doesn't take anything from you.”

“No, I know, rationally, I mean, I know. It's just that, um -” Sansa sighed. “I'm afraid I'll disappoint everyone if I don't do well.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Margaery sighed. “I've got it too.”

“And how do you deal with it ?”

“You tell yourself that if they really love you, then a grade, however bad, won't change anything.”

Both girls stayed silent for a second or two before Margaery went on.

“The problem with that is that it only works for a very limited time – you've got to tell yourself over and over. You've got to make yourself believe it. And that is the hardest fraking thing I've ever done.”

Sansa chuckled sadly. “Harder than building a village from scratch under the hot, hot sun ?”

“A hundred times harder.”

Again, there was a silence between them before Sansa felt like she needed to say something to lighten the mood.

“You know, for someone who called to boost my confidence, you're not doing so well.” she joked, relieved to hear Margaery laugh on the other end of the line.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be. I'm glad you called.”

The two girls ended up talking about anything and everything, about brothers and families and how grateful they were to have been born in those families, about social media and boys and how little they were interested in the latter, about growing up and setting goals and food and taxes – they talked and talked, freely, as though they could say anything, until Margaery gasped at the time.

“You need to go to bed !” she exclaimed, making Sansa smile from ear to ear.

“I know.” _I don't want to_ , she wanted to say, _I don't want to, I want to talk to you until the sun comes up tomorrow_. But she was reasonable, and she understood that she did have to go to bed. “I'll see you tomorrow ?”

“Yeah.” On the other end of the phone, Margaery felt breathless, as though her hear was racing. “I'll – Yeah. Of course.”

“Good night.”

“Good night. Break a leg !”

 

The whole PSATs affair was over quicker than Sansa had imagined, and it was easier, too. Writing had been a little difficult, but reading and maths had been fairly straightforward. She discussed it with Ygritte, Mya and Myranda as they walked to the cafeteria and through their early lunch. They, too, felt quite confident in themselves and their answers, but refused to walk through the test one more time, as Ygritte wanted to. Sansa smiled to herself, and, as Ygritte shot her a look, she nodded to signify her best friend that _she_ would be willing to, later.

They sat in the cafeteria throughout both lunch periods – their first class of the afternoon, economics, started at two o'clock –, talking about the SATs and wondering how bad it would be compared to the test they just had, and Sansa tried to be as discreet as possible in looking for Margaery. She checked her phone – no new messages – then looked back up, but Margaery was nowhere around.

“Who are you looking for ?”

Sansa looked back to see her friends all smiling at her, amused.

“No one.” she stated, begging herself not to start blushing.

“Liar.”

“My brothers.”

“Liar !”

Mya and Myranda giggled as Ygritte leaned forward on her elbows, the three of them staring at Sansa, curious and very much enjoying seeing her squirm.

“Margaery.” she finally confessed.

“I knew it !” Ygritte exclaimed as the other two girls both laughed and hooted. “You have, like, the biggest crush on her.”

Sansa blushed scarlet. “I do not !”

Myranda leaned towards Sansa, grinning. “You really do, though.”

“I, I – Absolutely not.”

That sounded weak, even to her ears, and Sansa knew she had lost the fight.

“Well, as long as I can use it to get ahead of the presidential race, we can call it what you want.” Ygritte winked. “But remember, we all know what crushes look like, so you can't hide from us.”

Sansa started to roll her eyes when Myranda shrieked. “We _all_ know ? Do _you_ have a crush, Red ?”

For a small second, Ygritte looked caught completely unprepared, her eyes wide with surprise. “No.”

“Oh my Gods, you do !” Sansa exclaimed.

“I – pssh. I don't.” Ygritte tried to frown and look serious, but they all knew that, now that Myranda had a bone, she would be unstoppable. She was about to bombard Red with questions when the bell rang, and Ygritte leaped out of her seat. “Oh, look. The bell. See ya.”

“Oh no, you don't.” Myranda leaped too, and almost ran after Ygritte, linking their arms together, and leaving the cafeteria in a hurry.

Sansa was shaking her head, smiling, when Mya – who had been silent up to this part – took her by surprise when she declared :

“For what is worth, I think Margaery has a crush on you, too.”

Sansa looked hard at Mya for a while, her look met by a huge grin. “She has. She can't stop staring at you when you're not looking. It's nauseating how cute it is.”

“Oh.” Sansa was speechless, fighting the smile that was forming on her lips from the inside of her body, trying to keep the butterflies forming in her stomach to spread. “Really ?”

 

Much like the PSATs, the SATs passed easily enough for Sansa and her friends. She felt much more prepared, less nervous; she really hoped her results would not disappoint her or her family. But there was nothing to do now but get on with the rest of October and forget about both tests until the results were due.

Bran's birthday was coming up fast, and Sansa still hadn't found the perfect gift for him. She, Ygritte and Jon roamed shop after shop after school one day, milkshakes in hand and eyes on the prize. Even though she hadn't told Jon, she had invited Ygritte to come with because, over the past few days, she had noticed the both of them had started to act very differently in each other's presence. Where there was cool detachment last week, there was awkwardness and blushes now. At first, she had dismissed it because she knew Jon to be very shy around people he didn't know, and Ygritte had never mentioned any desire to socialize with this particular brother – in fact, she would go very quiet at the simple mention of Jon -. But after talking about it with Robb one night after he had come home, Sansa had come to the realization that they actually had a crush on the other. And, even though it killed her not to talk about it, she had kept their secret – until now. Now, she wanted to see if it was just something that would pass if they actually hung out, or if it was real, and if she needed to do something about it. She felt conflicted about it, too, much to her surprise. She wanted Jon to be happy, and she wanted Ygritte to be happy; but Jon was leaving for uni in the fall. Was it fair to push them into a relationship with an expiration date ? She sighed, not knowing what she should do.

“What about these ? They seem educational.”

Ygritte had come back from a neighbouring aisle with several books in hand.

Sansa groaned in protestation, which earned her a nudge in the ribs by her brother.

“ _I_ got him books.”

“I know” she said. “And so did Robb. We can't _all_ give him books.”

Jon laughed. “You do know he consumes books by the dozen, right ?”

“I know.” she sighed.

And, of course, in the end, she ended up buying him books.

 

Ygritte had left them at the mall around 6pm, and Jon and Sansa had spent the rest of their time there bickering about where to get food for their old movie night. Sansa had been craving fast food since the SAT's had ended, but Jon – who hated fast food and never touched the stuff – wanted to get some Dornish food, at which point Sansa's stomach churned and groaned in protest.

All quarrels were left aside though when they passed in front of a newly opened restaurant that boasted Northern recipes and specialities. They flocked to it like moths to a flame, and salivated in anticipation all the way home. Now that they had food, there was nothing left but to disagree on the movie they should watch : a 1940's crime mystery or a 1960's comedy ? Of course, Sansa wanted to watch the comedy, but they had actually already seen it, while they had never seen the 1940's film.

Their argument was rendered moot, though, when they got home. Robb was sitting on the sofa, watching soccer on TV, a bowl of noodles on his lap.

“Hey guys.” he beamed up at them as they entered the room.

“Hello.” Jon passed him on the way to the kitchen to re-heat their food.

“Hey, heartth-Robb.” Sansa put her arms around his shoulders and smiled. “Had a good day ?”

“Yeah. You ? Find what you were looking for ?”

Sansa let him go and lifted the bag. “Yeah, more or less.”

“Where are the children ?” Jon called from the kitchen as Sansa kicked off her shoes and sat on the couch next to Robb, side to the back of the sofa, legs over Robb's.

“With mom.”

Jon reappeared with both plates, handed one to Sansa, and sat on the other side of Robb. He ate in relative, uncharacteristic silence, following the now muted game as Robb and Sansa chatted about school. All six dogs had gathered around the sofa hoping to get some food, but as they realized no one would give them anything, they had almost all gone to sleep around them.

“Everything okay ?” Robb ended up asking Jon as they finished eating, and Sansa got up to clean their plates.

“Yeah.”

“You don't sound very convincing, Jon.” Sansa laughed from the kitchen. And, even though she was no longer in the same room as them, she could almost hear her brother roll his eyes. She finished loading the dishwasher – Shaggydog, Nymeria and Summer looked expectantly up at her – in silence, and saw, as she came back, that Jon was squirming uncomfortably under his brother's amused stare. Sansa sat back where she was, and joined her brother in staring at Jon.

“Can you stop ?” he protested.

“Not a chance.” Robb grinned.

“Not until you tell us what we're pretty sure of.” Sansa piled on.

“What's the point in telling you if you already know ?”

“We don't _know_. That's the point.”

Jon turned to her. “Did _you_ tell Robb about _your_ crush ?”

“So you do have a crush on Ygritte !” she exclaimed.

Robb turned his head to look at Sansa. “You have a secret crush you didn't tell me about ?”

Sansa glanced at Robb for a second before going back to Jon. “How did it happen ? How did you know ? Does she know ? Will you tell her ?”

“Sansa, breathe.” he giggled as she was about to continue.

Robb was frowning, still staring at Sansa. “I can't believe you have a secret crush and you didn't tell me about it.”

“Robb, focus !”

Jon was laughing, rolling his eyes, while her other brother looked contrite. “You told Jon, but you didn't tell me ?”

“You're not getting away with it.” Sansa warned Jon, who was still very much amused by this.

“You always tell me when you get a crush.” Robb kept muttering.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Fine. I have a crush. I think. I don't know. It's just very confusing, okay ?' she exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. “I didn't tell you because you're friends with them and it could get awkward. That's all.”

“You told me when you had a crush on Theon.”

“Yes, and the first thing that you did was tell _him_ that. He stills brings it up sometimes.”

Sensing that his sister was reproaching something of him – though without resentment behind it – Robb quickly changed the subject.

“So a crush, huh ? On Red ?” he smiled, and Sansa turned back to Jon, who sighed.

“She's nice, all right ? She's nice, and funny, and interesting.”

“How do you know that ?” Sansa frowned.

“Because I have eyes. And ears.”

Sansa opened her mouth wide in shock. “You guys hung out without me ?”

Jon sighed again. “Yes. We hung out. I was looking for you, she was on her own, we talked.”

Her mouth still dangling open, Sansa looked over at Robb, then back at Jon who both started to laugh.

“I think you broke our sister.” Robb joked.

 

On the third Monday of October, the week before their first break, some time after Student Council and when she was about to go home, Sansa heard somebody sobbing in an empty classroom. Silently, she tried to see who was inside, but all she could see were chairs and desks. She opened the door softly.

“Hello ?”

The sobbing stopped, replaced by an uneasy silence.

“I'm sorry to barge in, I just -” Sansa hesitated. “I – Maybe I can help. If you want.”

There was another silence, and she reddened all over, feeling very idiotic to be standing there, between an empty classroom and an empty hallway.

“Sansa ?”

Sansa turned her head to see, hidden in the back of the class, sitting on her butt, a red-eyed Margaery Tyrell.

“Hey.” Sansa closed the door behind her. “Is it okay if I-”

Margaery nodded softly, drying the tears that had fallen on her cheeks. Sansa took a deep breath and walked towards the girl, sat next to her and looked ahead, unsure if she should look at Margaery.

“Are you all right ?”

“Yeah.” Margaery weakly exclaimed. “Yeah, I'm just being stupid.”

Sansa swallowed. “Do you want to talk about it ?”

After another small silence, Margaery sighed. “I'm just – really starting to feel the pressure, you know ? Everybody's expecting me to be perfect. My parents, my grandma, teachers, classmates. You.” Margaery shot her a sad look before looking back down. “You're all waiting for me to know what to do, and to know where to go, and to be the very best person I can be. It's just a lot, right now. That's all.”

“I'm sorry.”

She didn't know what to say, the words with which to soothe her, and all she could get out of her mouth was an apology. Without thinking, she reached for Margaery's hand and held it in her own, squeezed it gently.

“I didn't mean to impose – You just make it so look so easy. I thought it was.”

Margaery smiled a little, sniffing. “No, I shouldn't – Don't apologize to me. I made my own bed.” She sighed, then started giggling. “You want to know something funny ?”

Sansa nodded.

“I'm going back to Lys for the break. Medical outreach program. I'm going with my mom.” Margaery rolled her eyes. “All of this – it's going to look great on my college applications. But all I want to do is -” She looked up at Sansa. “I want to throw a party with my brother. To celebrate fall. And I want to laugh with my friends because it's my last year and I want to make memories of them and I want to kiss -”

She stopped, abruptly, and stared at Sansa with eyes wide open in surprise for a split second before taking her hand back from hers. Sansa looked at down at her now empty hands, her chest feeling tighter than usual. She could hear her own heart beating wildly, and she swallowed, fighting against the hurt that was coming up her throat. The both of themfell into silence, a long, uncomfortable silence that pricked Sansa's skin with every second that passed.

“I'm so-” Margaery started, but Sansa cleared her throat.

“You should tell her. Your mom. That you don't want to go.”

“But-”

“Sometimes you have to be selfish. You have to think about you. You do so much for everyone, you deserve this one thing. So, I think you should tell her.”

“Sansa-”

“I've got to go.” She got up, and stood, very awkwardly, there. “Robb and Jon – they're probably waiting for me – I should go.”

She almost ran to the door with Margaery calling after her.

“Just tell your mom, okay ? If she really loves you, then telling her and being selfish, just this once, it won't change anything. Right ?”

To Sansa's great embarassement, she half curtsied to say goodbye, then walked very, very fast to get out of there. She didn't know why, but there were tears forming in her eyes, but she couldn't cry, not now. Her brothers, they would see it, and they wouldn't let go, they would want to know, they would want to help – but all she wanted to go was go home and forget about the fact that Margaery wanted to _kiss_ someone, she wanted to kiss _someone_ and she didn't want Sansa to hold her hand, and she needed to forget that, maybe fight with Arya about something stupid and watch TV with the boys and have Rickon sit on her lap and she wanted to forget. It would all be okay, once she took it off of her mind. So, before she reached the parking lot – Robb was talking to Jeyne and Jon was sitting in the car – she stopped, shook her head as though she could just shed all of what just happened, took a deep breath, and walked towards her bothers with a smile.

Sansa, of course, could not forget about what had happened. She couldn't even stop thinking about it – it was there, every second, however hard she focused on other things. She cooked dinner, she bathed Rickon, she brushed Lady, did her homework, played the piano and stretched before going to bed; Margaery was there, taking her hand back, over and over. And it was a stupid detail, it meant nothing, right ? It didn't mean that Margaery didn't want to be her friend. And that's all she wanted, really, to be friends. She'd never thought about anything else, anything more, even though everyone told her she had a crush, it wasn't a crush. It was – temporary. It needed to go away. It was the honeymoon period that came with every new friendship, and it was over now. She needed to get over it. Yes, she thought before closing her eyes, she was going to get over it.

But, as much as she wanted to get over it, not texting nor talking with Margaery all week felt extremely weird. Sansa was sure it wouldn't last, that they would start to talk again soon, right after the moment of awkwardness passed, but still : she missed the Tyrell girl. It was crazy, too, because she was right there and Sansa was certain that if she could just gather up the courage to send her a text, Margaery would answer. Probably. Frustrated, Sansa let out a sigh that got Lady to lift her head. Why did she have to overreact when Margaery took back her hand ? After all, she hadn't ask if she was okay with it. _She_ was the jerk in the story, truth be told. She sighed again, then groaned. It was Friday night now, and there was a two-week break, and she hadn't even seen her before she left school, and now Margaery was probably going to go to Lys and Sansa wasn't going to see her before November and -

“Earth to Sansa Stark.” Arya was waving her hand in front of Sansa's face. “It's your turn.”

“What ?” Sansa blinked, realizing that all her siblings were staring at her. “Sorry. I was -”

“Thinking about your boyfriend.” Bran joked, making the boys laugh.

“Pff.” Arya stated, “she has homework, not a boyfriend.” The boys laughed harder, and Sansa rolled her eyes.

Tonight was game night for the Stark children, tonight's selection having been chosen by Rickon. She mentally kicked herself for not paying attention, and rolled the dice.

Arya ended up winning – but Bran swore he saw her cheat, and Robb and Jon felt enclined to say he was right, but didn't to keep the peace -, and Sansa basically flew to her room to get her phone. Margaery simply couldn't leave with them in this weird not talking state. Not happening. Of course, it was easier said than done. She wanted to text “hi”, she wanted to text “sorry”, she wanted to know if she was leaving, staying, just what in seven hells had happened between them. She wanted to say something, but she was stuck, and the little line blinked, blinked, blinked, and still, there were no words. She was so frustrated with herself, so focused, that she hadn't even heard the doorbell; and so when she heard the knock on the door, she jumped in surprise.

“Come in !”

She didn't even look at her door – Robb was supposed to give her a book back – and continued to stare at the screen. The door opened, closed, and still, no word. When Sansa finally looked up, she had to do a double take to realize that Margaery Tyrell was in her bedroom – thank the Gods she had cleaned it up earlier in the week -.

“Margaery !”

“Sorry.”, she tried to smile, “I didn't mean to – is this a bad time ?”

“No, no. I'm just – I was trying to text you.”

Margaery took her phone from her pocket, frowning. “Did I not receive them ?”

Sansa swallowed. “Well, no – because I was too chicken to send them.”

“Oh.” Margaery giggled. “Yeah. Me too.”

There was a moment of silence as both girls stared at each other uncomfortably.

“I'm sorry I acted like a jerk and left you in that classroom.”

“And I'm sorry I took my hand back like that. You were just trying to help, and I overreacted.”

Another silence settled between them before Sansa plucked up the courage to talk.

“So when are you leaving ?”

“Actually, I'm not. I took your advice and I told my mother. I'm staying.” Margaery smiled.

“How did she take it ?”

“Well, she told me I was disappointing her, basically.” she nooded to herself.

Sansa felt a surge of sympathy for the other girl, and wanted to hug her, make her feel better.

“I'm sorry.”

Margaery shrugged. “She'll get over it. Right ?”

“Right.”

“Are we okay ?”

Sansa looked up to see that the Tyrell girl was looking at her expectantly, smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Cool. Cause there's this documentary I want to go see and I was really hoping you'd come with me.” Margaery grinned.

 


	4. November & December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys !   
> Sorry it took me so long to update.   
> I hope you enjoy the new chapter ! :)

Going back to school after two weeks spent hanging out with her siblings, her friends and Margaery seemed impossible. Every day had been a new adventure – she went to the beach with the girls, to museums and movies with Margaery, tried new and terrifying things with the other Stark children – and she didn't feel like she was ready to go back just yet. But, of course, she couldn't argue with the school calendar, and she got up at six that Monday to go back to KL high.

Exams were coming up before the end of November, and the four eldest Stark children had already started studying at least an hour and a half each day, the four of them together crammed in the library. Bran and Rickon were forbidden to enter except if they wanted to read quietly, and even Catelyn and Ned had to promise complete silence if they were to walk through the door. But exams were not the only thing keeping everyone busy : after exam came rankings – a KL High tradition designed to put children down thanks to ruthless scoring –; the Winter Wonderland dance, which Sansa and Jon helped put together; and, for Sansa at least, came recitals in dance and music, right before the December holidays. And so everybody buckled down and worked.

But exams and dances and recitals were not Sansa's only focus: her father and his team had started meetings to decide how to run their reelection campaign, and she eagerly joined them every afternoon after class and before going home to study. She was hoping to get pointers on how to run Ygritte's campaign, but ended up mostly fetching people coffee and copying documents – which she did without saying anything and as quickly and efficiently as she could just so that they would allow her to stay. Still, it was an incredible opportunity to just watch them work, and she took every minute that she was there as such. Ygritte and her talked almost every night on the phone about their own campaign, and it was planned that Ygritte would spend the weekend at Sansa's to make banners and flyers and buttons, just to start things off. She had arrived on Saturday, after Sansa's dance classes and piano practice, and they had spent hours dedicated to the campaign. But now that it was time to sleep and that the extra bed was set up, Ygritte looked like she had something to say.

"Do you know who you want to go to the dance with ?"

Sansa, who, although she was – along with the rest of Student Council – on the dance committee and in charge of the overall organization of the dance, had not yet had the time to think about the need for a partner. She had never cared much about boys : there had been Theon, who now, a few years later, felt more like a forced crush than anything else, and there had been Joffrey Baratheon, but that had been a nightmare and had quickly been stopped. And, apart from these two, she had never given any boy a second's notice; they were here, her friends liked them or were attracted to them, but Sansa had noticed her friends, her homework, and, much more shyly though, she had noticed Margaery. Truth be told, she was the one person Sansa would want to take to the dance, just because they'd laugh at each other's stupid jokes, and because, as she gradually came to know the older girl, Sansa felt like she could only truly be herself with her. Margaery would make her feel interesting, even when she wouldn't be, and no boys, except for her brothers, had ever come close to making her feel that way.

"Honestly ? I hadn't even thought about it.", she answered. "Do you ?"

Ygritte blushed red. "Well – there is one boy ..."

Unlike her, Ygritte had always had crushes, at least she had for as long as she had known her. She found them cute, and she liked to watch them pass by, and, most of all, she liked to kiss them. She had never been anything but upfront and honest about it, and Sansa had always admired that about her best friend.

Jon had told Sansa how he felt about Ygritte some time ago already; he'd told her they had hung out, and, to Sansa, it made sense that she, Ygritte, felt the same and might want to take her brother to the dance. So, without thinking, she nodded. "Jon asked you yet ?"

Ygritte gasped in surprise. "How did you-?"

"Sorry. I wormed it out of him a few weeks ago, and since I knew you had a crush but wouldn't talk to me about it – I put two and two together and figured out you guys were .. whatever you guys are." she shrugged.

"You're not mad ?"

Sansa turned to her friend, eyebrows knitted together. "Why would I be mad ?"

"He's your brother."

"And you're my best friend." Sansa smiled. "The only problem I see with this is that I'm not sure I'll be able to kick either of you guys arses if it ends badly."

Ygritte laughed. "You have no idea how much better I feel."

"So he did ask ?"

"Yeah. Yesterday."

"You said yes, right ?"

Ygritte giggled. "Yeah. Almost spat on him I answered so fast." She shook her head, then got up from her bed to go sit on Sansa's, next to her, shoulder to shoulder. "So now that you know my secret-"

Sansa turned to look at Ygritte while she continued.

"Can you tell me what's going on between you and Margaery ?"

Sansa groaned. "Is it that obvious ?"

Red quickly protested. "No, no. It isn't. I know because you're my best friend and I have extensive Sansa body language knowledge, and Mya knows because she noticed how you two, um – behave towards each other ? How you guys are in a bubble whenever you're near each other, even if you're not speaking, it's just like – you guys gear towards the other. But nobody else knows."

Sansa sighed, but stayed silent.

"I just- I want you to know that if you want to tell me about it, you can."

She her best friend was trying to reassure her, that she meant well, but now that it was out there, that it had been said, out loud, Sansa felt more scared than reassured.

"It's just-" she tried to form a coherent sentence to express what she was feeling, but came up empty. "I don't know. I feel like she's- she's a big question mark. And I'm not sure I'm ready to have that answer yet."

"Why not ?"

Sansa's voice dropped to a whisper. "What if my parents find out ? What if they don't accept it ? What if my brothers don't accept it ? I don't think I could bear disappointing them like this. What if I say it, out loud, what if I say that I like a girl the way I've never liked a boy, any boy, that all I want is to hold her hand and talk to her all the time – and I see the look in their eyes, like they don't know who I am, like they don't recognize me ? What do I do then ?"

"Sansa-"

"I think we should sleep now. Big day tomorrow." Sansa tried to smile at her friend before sliding between the covers, waiting until Ygritte went to bed before turning off the lights.

 

As November passed, Sansa's feelings towards Margaery felt like they grew every day. She was constantly catching herself staring at the older girl, daydreaming about holding her hand, and, on one particular occasion in Maths class, Ygritte had had to kick her chair because the teacher was starting to realize that Sansa wasn't listening to his class at all.

Her grades stayed put, though, only because she was working very hard to keep them that way : every evening, she studied after doing her homework for about an hour, both to prepare the next week's exams, but also to try and stop thinking about Margaery. Sansa had no idea if it had worked until the first of December, unofficially dubbed 'Rankings day' by the students.

Along with Ygritte, Mya, and around fifty other students, Sansa waited anxiously for them to be posted. They all hudled along the wall opposite the board where the results would be pinned, looking at one end of the corridor to the other, pesting against the teacher who they all thought were late – he wasn't.

Margaery was in those fifty students, talking with her senior friends, but Sansa tried to ignore her and stay focused; she tried to ignore her laugh, she tried to ignore her perfume, she tried to ignore her smile and her hair and her _free_ hands – and she was failing miserably. She shook her head – Mya and Ygritte shot her weird looks – and got back to looking over her shoulder for the teacher.

At eight o'clock on the dot, the vice principal – a first – arrived, and, according to anxious students, took his time pinning the sheets to the board, then left, smiling at the children as he passed them by. But none replied as they were hypnotised by the results – everyone rushed to the wall. Sansa's eyes darted to the junior's section, up the page where they listed the first names, and felt a stone sink into her stomach when she saw her name. _Sansa Stark, third rank_. A sob formed in her throat, but she swallowed it down.

She'd consistently been second for all of her scholarity here – Joffrey Baratheon always being first, even though he didn't deserve it, not even slightly -, and even though she suspected second wasn't enough for Targaryen U, she _knew_ third place wouldn't cut it. Ygritte had beaten her for the first time, shouting and dancing next to her, and even if she had only got beaten by half a point, the result was still the same : third. She was _third_. Sans felt her hopes of making it into Targaryen fly away, and turned around and walked away.

She had almost made it to her classroom for first period when Margaery caught up with her, and followed her in.

“Are you okay ?” she inquired.

“Yeah, fine, hm-hm.”

Sansa dropped her bag on a desk, then leaned on it, quickly imitated by her 'friend'.

“Liar.” Margaery teased, and Sansa only looked down. “Were rankings not what you hoped they'd be ?”

Sansa kept quiet, slightly shaking her head.

“Rankings don't mean anything. They're just an archaic way to get us all in line.” she tried to soothe the Northern girl, but only ended up getting a exasperated look.

“You've been first every time.” Sansa pointed.

“Yes, I know.”

An sullen silence settled between them before Margaery continued :

“I've told you about how my mum's a genius and an excellent doctor, right ?”

Sansa nodded.

“Well,” the older girl sighed. “She's kind of a, um ...”

“Bully ?”

“Yeah. She says she doesn't deserve the mediocrity that my brother Loras is subjecting her to, studying theatre. She says that only my own excellence will be enough.”

She chuckled a little sadly, making Sansa's heart squeeze into her chest. Without thinking, she extended her hand towards the brunette, letting it hover over hers, waiting – hoping – that Margaery would take it.

Margaery looked at the hand, then up at Sansa, and the two shared a sad look and a small smile, before the older girl slid her hand in Sansa's.

It was right then that the redhead knew she was doomed, that she could never be just friends with Margaery. Having her hand intertwined with hers felt extremely nice – to say the least -, and she'd forgotten all about the results; she was warm, and butterflies were starting to dance in her stomach, and she felt her heart beat so strong, but it didn't hurt at all.

“I'm sorry your mum's so hard on you.”

“I'm sorry rankings didn't go so well for you.” Margaery looked over at Sansa. “But third, that's not so bad, right ?”

Sansa sighed. “I don't think Targaryen University will agree with you.”

Getting up from the desk, Margaery stood before Sansa, not leting go of her hand.

“Can I ask you something ?”

Sansa nodded.

“Was it your idea to apply to Targaryen ?”

Sansa frowned. “What do you mean ?”

“Well,” Margaery shifted her weight, “whenever we talk about it, you have mini panic attacks. Plus, you say you want to major in political studies and then go to law school, but you have zero interest in running for student body president, nor did you take intro to law at college this summer.”

Sansa frowned deeper, wondering how Margaery knew all of this.

“You did, however,” the girl continued, “choose sociology, a class on inequalities and a class in health and well being.”

“Where are you going with this ?”

“I'm just asking if you really want to become a politician.”

Sansa shrugged. “Do _you_ really want to be a doctor ?”

“I don't know.”

They were brought back to reality by the bell ringing, signaling the beginning of the day, but neither Sansa nor Margaery moved. Their hands still clung to one another, in silence, the girls taking comfort and courage in each other's presence and touch.

Margaery was the first to move after sighing, and let go of Sansa's hand which lingered in the air for a second before Sansa moved it.

“I'll see you later ?” the brunette inquired.

“Of course, yeah.” the red-haired girl smiled.

Sansa watched Margaery walk to the door quietly before calling back to her.

“Thanks for checking up on me.”

The Tyrell girl turned around, smiling sweetly, standing in the doorway.

“Thanks for listening to me.” she answered.

After one last smile, she disappeared, leaving Sansa with one compelling thought. _Crap_ , she sighed, _I really, really don't want to be just friends with that girl_.

She was still leaning against her desk when the rest of her class came in a few seconds after the second bell rang, wondering how she was going to be okay with the reality that Margaery, on the other hand, seemed fine with just being friendly.

 

December had come with a slight drizzle and a small drop in temperature – students now wore cardigans and closed shoes – and everyone was buzzing about the upcoming ball.

Nobody had asked Sansa yet, but she didn't care – she had been too busy organizing it to think about attending. Plus, she was days away from getting her PSATs and SATs scores, so boys were even further away from her mind than usual.

During the previous week-end, she'd had to tell her parents about her rank – she had stressed about it all through the week – but, to her utter surprise, they hadn't been disappointed at all, just curious to know what had happened. Catelyn had soothed her with kind words, and Eddard had just hugged her and kissed her head, and told her he was very proud of the student that she was. This week, though, there was something even more important to tell them, and Sansa had no idea how badly it was going to go.

The day that Sansa had realized that she was well on her way to falling in love with a girl, Robb and Jon had found her crying in the garden, shielded from everyone's eyes, and they had both hugged her silently until she had calmed down. Telling them had been easier than she had thought, one, because Jon already half-knew, and two, because they were the two people with whom she felt closest. Jon kept hugging her, but Robb had taken a step back, and had sat down facing her.

“I'm sorry I was too oblivious to notice, even when you guys talked about it under my nose.”

Sansa shook her head. “Don't. There's no need to be sorry.”

“But I am. I wish I had known sooner so that I could have told you this – and I'm sure Jon will agree with me on this one : I love you.”

Sansa felt Jon nod his head fervently against her, and she smiled as Robb went on.

“No matter what.” he grinned. “Besides, wouldn't it be hypocritical of us to not support the fact that you like girls ? We _love_ girls.”

Sansa giggled.

“Girls are so great.” Jon added, with a faraway look.

“They laugh at our jokes.” Robb said.

“Even when they're not funny.” Jon smiled.

“They always smell so nice. How is it that all girls smell that nice ?” Robb frowned.

“It's called showering ?” Sansa laughed, at which point Robb rolled his eyes, still smiling.

“And they're fearless.” Jon continued. “Seriously. They move through adolescence and puberty like warriors.”

“And they try really hard, too. They dress up every day, put some makeup on, do their hair. Meanwhile, us boys just have to put on a clean shirt and we're gold.”

Jon nodded, then looked at his sister. “Point being, we get it. Girls deserve all the love they can get.”

Sansa smiled shyly. “Thank you. I love you, too.”

The three of them agreed to say that Sansa should not just blurt out that she liked Margaery – it had taken Robb twenty minutes and countless questions to guess the name of the girl Sansa liked while his siblings gently mocked him - at the dinner table, but that she should tell their parents after dinner, after the children were in their bedrooms. Sunday would then be the perfect opportunity, right after their family dinner.

 

All week, Sansa had felt a little pressured, both by her upcoming heart to heart with the two people she wanted least to disappoint and by the fact that she saw more of Margaery than ever. The two of them were in full organization mode, and worked side by side almost every day after school that week. After that, Sansa had rehearsal for her upcoming end of year recitals, and went home around nine to do her homework and, if she wasn't too sleepy, work on posters for Ygritte's campaign. Her week passed by in a flash, and when Sunday arrived, Sansa didn't feel ready at all.

But she couldn't keep it from them any longer; her parents had realized something was up when she avoided them in the morning, and that all they knew from what was going on in her life, they got it from questionning her brothers. In fact, that Sunday night after dinner, it was them who asked Sansa to sit down and tell them what bothered her.

Sansa looked over at Jon and Robb, who both tried to encourage her with a smile, then took a deep breath.

“There's something that is happening to me and that I don't fully understand how it works yet.”, she started. “And I haven't told you – I didn't know how to tell you - because it might be upsetting to you. You might not like it.” she took another deep breath, “But I want you to know that I've thought _a lot_ about it, and that it's not a fluke.”

“Are you pregnant ?” her father inquired, frowning.

“What ? No.” Sansa exclaimed. “I am not pregnant. No.”

“Drugs, then ?” Eddard pressed.

Catelyn took his hand. “Ned, let her talk.”

Eddard squared his jaw, nodded, then looked up at Sansa, who didn't know how to continue, and so, despite her brothers' warning, blurted it all out.

“I'm in love with a girl.”

There. It was out, in the open. Sansa waited, breathless, for any reaction from her parents. She had clenched her hands together, trying to keep her breathing under control; but still her parents said nothing. They looked stunned for a second before Eddard spoke.

“But you're _not_ on drugs ?”

Sansa laughed a little. “No, dad. I am not on drugs.”

“Okay. Good.” He seemed to relax a little.

“Is it – all girls ?” Catelyn inquired in a small voice.

Sansa took another deep breath. “I don't know. For now, it's just – the one girl.”

“And you're certain you're in love ?” Catelyn went on.

“Um -” Sansa hesitated, “I'm well on my way, yes.”

Her mother nodded. “Very well, then.” She looked over at her husband beofre adding : “You have done us the courtesy of being honest, so we will do the same. We, um-” She seemed to look for the right words, and Sansa's heart felt like it would soon beat out of her chest, “We, or at least I, but I think your father will agree with me, we don't know how to handle this information.”

Sansa's face fell.

“I've never been confronted with this situation before, so I don't know what is appropriate to say, I don't know if I can say the words that are going to make you feel better. And I might have trouble adjusting, and I might say the wrong things – but I, we” she looked over at Ned before coming back to Sansa, “we love you. You are our daughter, always. We want you to be the person that you are, and if that person is in love with girls, then – okay.”

Sansa's heart hiccuped. “Thank you.”

Catelyn nodded, while Ned took his daughter's hand and stated : “Something is definetely going to change, though.”

Sansa frowned.

“We are going to be very weary of the girls you're bringing home, now. Same as your brothers.”

Sansa giggled. “I'm okay with that.”

Ned stood up from the couch, and took Sansa in his arms, whispering : “Thank you for telling us.”

“Thank you for still loving me.”

Her father smiled and took a step back, still keeping her in his arms as he had both hands on her arms. “But no drugs ?”

Sansa could see in his eyes that he was joking, and so she laughed. “None, unless you count caffeine.”

Her father nodded, then looked over at his other children. “So last week were rankings, this week we have a romance blooming … What's on next week's agenda ?”

“SAT scores.” Robb answered with a lopsided grin.

“And recitals for Bran and Sansa.” Jon added.

“Doesn't Arya have a pony show ?” Sansa looked over at her brothers.

“Not to mention Robb's game on Friday.” Catelyn got up from the couch to go take her sons in her arms.

Ned Stark fake sighed. “How do I ever get any work done with any of you ?”

Everyone laughed in response as Ned shook his head. Sansa smiled and laughed, happy that her parents still loved her, happy that she was free to do, and love, who she liked – that was a victory, and not a small one; she'd blissfully take it.

 


	5. December, part II

Now that Sansa had told her parents, she tought the worst was over : after all, they had both been raised by conservative families, and being honest with them could have easily turned into a disaster. But there were no differences in the way that they treated her; their first question in the morning was still about how she had slept, they still wished her a good day at school, Ned was still happy to see her arrive at his office even though all that she did there was serve coffee. Yes, she had thought telling them would have been her big trial, but, as it turned out, the worst thing about being in love was still waiting for her that Monday.

It was the last week of school before Winter break, and everyone at school was in a frenzy: it was time for the last preparations for Friday's dance, and students were coordinating their clothes and hair and shoes; SAT – and, for some, PSAT as well – scores were coming before the end of the week; and their three weeks off school meant ski trips for some and beach trips in the Southern Isles for others, and, for most, it meant that they would spend New Year's eve and most of New year's day partying with friends.

For Sansa, it meant that, next Monday morning, her whole family would go _home_. Their real home. _Winterfell._

Winterfell was in the middle of the Northern countryside, lost between forests and snow, and the three weeks they spent there in the Winter was Sansa's favourite time of the year. Three weeks of family, three weeks of snow, and cold wind, and rough weather. Three weeks of fireplace talks with Catelyn and Ned and Jon and Robb, three weeks of running between the trees with the dogs, three weeks of dares and stupid teenage and child behaviour; no ballet classes, no music classes, no homework. Well, actually, a little homework, depending on what the teachers gave them all – but no more than that. Plus, the Starks organized a New Year party every year, with a grand banquet and where everyone in the neighbourhood was invited, no matter how rich, no matter how old, no matter the name. Sansa loved organizing it every year with Catelyn, and, most often, she made the deserts herself, which meant spending the day baking, covered with flour and cake batter, the oven warming the room, the smell of pie filing the whole house. It was often made much more special to Sansa because her Jon and Arya usually helped, and it was the one day of the year when Sansa and Arya didn't argue at all – Sansa unabashedly loved it.

Jeyne and Ygritte were coming with them this year, as well as Arya's best friend Mycah, for whom this would be the first time going to the North; and Jon and Sansa laughed about the fact that Ygritte would now be treated as the girlfriend instead of the best friend, and that Ygritte had no idea what was actually waiting for her during the trip. They would have to prepare her during the week, Jon insisted, and Sansa had agreed.

After her parents and Jon, Robb, and her had talked the night before, Ned had proposed inviting Margaery along to Winterfell – they had been quite pleased with knowing Sansa liked Margaery, as they had met her and her family previously, and had thought her a very mature and interesting person – for three weeks, and Catelyn had warmly assented. Which is why, on Monday, Sansa had been so nervous in going to Student Council.

Ygritte had shrieked in joy when Sansa had confessed to wanting to ask Margaery to come, and the both of them had roleplayed Sansa asking during lunch. They arrived in student council a few minutes early, only to discover that there would be no meetings this week due to final prom organisation details. Sansa frowned, as she was part of the dance committee, and she had received no notice from anybody. They walked to the ballroom, where Ygritte gasped – she had not yet seen the room all decorated – and where Margaery was leading a crew of students moving the fake pine trees and the fake forest animals.

Sansa walked over to her with a frown.

“Margaery, what's going on ?”

The Tyrell girl turned around with a small, polite smile.

“Oh, hi. I'm just putting the finishing touches, just so that we are ready for Friday.”

“But I thought that we'd finished the overall decoration last week.”

“I know, but something was bothering me.”

Margaery turned back again and only showed Sansa her back. The cold attitude of the girl she liked felt like a stab in the heart, and Sansa took a step back.

After that afternoon, things quickly deteriorated between the two of them. Margaery avoided looking at her, and she avoided being close to her, at least when nobody else was around, and she was nothing else but nice when they were in company. Each time felt like a slap in Sansa's heart, especially when Margaery found excuse after excuse to never be close to her, at least not physically. The texting had stopped for anything else than prom business, and Margaery no longer dropped in at lunch for coffee. They had gone from friends to strangers in the blink of an eye, and Sansa's morale rapidly declined.

PSAT's and SAT's scores arrived in the midst of all that chaos, and her parents and brothers cheered when they heard how good they were. Sansa was pleased with herself, very pleased; and the feeling only grew when she learned that, out of the whole KL high junior class, she'd done the best. Rankings would change when they would come back from break, there was no denying that, and everything would be right on track for her future. That is, if she chose to forget about Margaery's question in the empty classroom.

Did she really want to work in politics ? Sure, she loved AP Politics class – it was her second favourite after Women's Studies – and she loved working in her Father's office, but she hated Tyrion Lannister's view of the world and people, and she hated politicians that had ambition and no moral code, such as Tyrion's father. She despised the people who put themselves first and who turned a blind eye to those less fortunate than them, loathed the people who cried crocodile tears for show. To think that she would have to become one of those people in order to succeed filled her with dread, and she was scared she'd have to compromise her own values for this job. She felt lost, and, more than anything, she wished Margaery was here to help her; that girl seemed to know Sansa better than she knew herself, and she would know what to say.

But Margaery remained a stranger, oblivious to Sansa's various excuses for talking, and, little by little, Sansa's heart felt like it was getting stepped on every time Margaery pointedly didn't look at her. Eventually, she stopped trying, and simply watched as the older girl ignored her.

They spent the week not talking until Sansa finally had enough. She knew that the Tyrell girl would be in the ballroom until it was time for her to go home and get prepared for her date, and she decided to walk in and demand answers. She purposefully strut to her in the empty room, and inquired in the steadiest voice that she could muster :

“Are you ever going to tell me why you won't talk to me anymore ?”

Margaery turned around.

“I don't know what you mean, Sansa. We talk every day.”

“That's not really true, is it ?” Sansa crossed her arms. “I text you, you ignore me. I see you in the halls, you ignore me.”

Margaery kept quiet, lowering her eyes to look at the ground.

“Is it something I did ? Am I too … clingy ?”

Sansa's heart was beating a little too loud in her chest, and she was fighting hard not to falter. She was waiting for an answer, anything that would explain Margaery's behaviour. But there was nothing but silence, no matter how long she waited. Finally, she had enough, and decided to walk away. She had done no more than a few steps when she heard her.

“Wait.”

Sansa turned to face Margaery, who was biting her lip, looking very nervous. She took a deep breath, then closed the distance between them.

“There's something I need to say, and I've been trying to get it out all week, but – It's – It's stuck.” Margaery sighed.

Sansa lifted an eyebrow, curious, wondering if she should press her on. After a while, though, Margaery continued.

“I have two brothers, whom I love with all my heart. In my eyes, both of them can do no wrong, no matter what.” she swallowed, shaking her head. “But my mother – that's another story. Anyway, after my brother Willas' accident and his confinement to a wheelchair, and after Loras' coming out and his enrolment into a 'second rate college', my mother decided that I was her only child.”

Sansa frowned, resisting the urge to hug Margaery, or wince at the pain in her voice.

“It doesn't matter that Willas is the most intelligent person that I know, and it doesn't matter that Loras is happier now than he has ever been; she exiled Willas to our family home with our aunt and uncle where no one 'important' can see him and she kicked Loras out.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her eyes filled with tears.

“She's counting on me to be perfect, Sansa. Surely, you can understand that.”

“I'm sorry she is so hard on you.” she sighed. “But I don't understand why you won't talk to me anymore.”

Margaery stared for a second, her expression sad, before she took a step forward.

“I can't be friends with you. It's -” she seemed to search her words, not knowing which to choose, “I want – My mother, she's waiting on me to be perfect, she's waiting on me to go to the dance with Joffrey Baratheon, and she's waiting on me to become the queen, or something. But I don't want to be queen, Sansa.”

A tear was rolling down her cheek, and she quickly swept it away, rolling her eyes. Without thinking, Sansa took Margaery's hand in hers, wanting to say something, and failing miserably.

Margaery looked down at their intertwined hands and started laughing, taking Sansa completely by surprise.

“Do you want to know what I want ?” she asked, hysteria rising in her throat.

Sansa nodded eagerly.

“I want this.” Margaery lifted their tangled hands, showing them to Sansa. “I want to hold your hand, and I want to go to the dance with _you_ , not supid Joffrey Baratheon, and I want to talk to _you_ all the time, and I want to tell my mom, I want her to love me no matter what -” she had started crying earnestly. “I don't want to be perfect. I want to be with you.”

For Sansa, in any other circumstances, hearing those words would have been a blessing, a pleasure. But Margaery looked so hurt, so scared, that she din't know how to react. She simply took her in her arms, let her cry against her, trying to soothe her, make her feel better; all the while feeling completely useless.

They spent a few minutes holding each other as Margaery's sobs eventually grew dimmer and further apart, and then Sansa was gently pushed away while she rummaged for tissues in her bag.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.” Margaery gingerly gulped.

“I'm sorry you feel so pressured.” Sansa took a deep breath. “I wish there was something I could do to make you feel better.”

Margaery sniffled, gently pushing out of their hug, shaking her head. “It's all right.”

“But it isn't.” Sansa cleared her throat. “You know, I - I want to be with you, too.”

The silence that came after that was, for Sansa at least, not an awkward one, but a surprised one. And expectant one. It was out there, in the world, and Margaery knew, she knew and she felt the same way; Sansa's heart was leaping with joy, and she smiled despite the heavy atmosphere.

“Really ?” Margaery shyly beamed.

“You didn't – It didn't occur to you ?”

“Actually, I thought I was making a fool of myself.” the older girl joked, making Sansa giggle.

“You weren't.”

After laughing, the two girls felt silent again for a minute, exchanging glances and small smiles. They were happy, until Margaery sighed.

“What am I going to do, Sansa ?”

“I've told my parents.”

Margaery looked up at her, expectantly. “And ?”

“They're kind of really excited, actually.” she chuckled, followed by Margaery.

“Really ?”

Sansa assented.

“They want me to ask you to come to Winterfell with us for New Year.”

Margaery blushed red.

“Will you ? Come ?” Sansa insisted, her heart beating so hard against her chest, expectant.

“I'd love to.” Margaery laughed. “I do have to ask my mother, first, though.”

“Sure. Tell her there will be tons of eligible bachelors for you to meet.”

Margaery laughed again. “She would love that.”

“Just – promise you'll ask her ?” Sansa insisted.

Margaery nodded happily, a small smile on her lips. “I will.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Have fun tonight.”

“I'll try.” Margaery rolled her eyes.

Sansa nodded her head absently, then, almost on a whim, she took a step forward and gave Margaery a quick kiss, furtively, before saying goodbye and running out of the room.

She simply couldn't stop smiling on the way home, even though she practically had to walk back since neither Jon nor Robb had waited for her, even though it was just a peck on the lips, even though all of it felt like a house of cards just seconds away from caving in. She smiled, and grinned, and beamed, and she had had to catch herself a few times before she started skipping. Margaery liked her, _liked her_ liked her, and her chest was expanding from happiness at the thought – that is, until she remembered the mother.

Sansa loved her mother, she revered her, and she wanted less than anything to disappoint her; and so she could guess that Margaery felt the same way about her own mum. Of course, she wanted to be with Margaery, but she could understand if she would sacrifice her, Sansa, for her mother's approval and love – there was nothing a daughter wouldn't do to be loved by her mother, walk in her footsteps. Sansa sighed as she pushed the door to her home : what was Margaery going to do ?

 

Sansa spent the evening watching animated films with Rickon in her arms and Bran against her legs, junk food spread on the coffee table, fighting to check her phone every second unless it actually rang.

Robb and Jon were out to the dance with their dates, and, surprinsingly, so was Arya; Catelyn and Ned were eating out, just the two of them. Sansa hugged Rickon tighter, making him wiggle. In any other situation, she would have loved getting some time alone with her two little brothers; to her opinion, she was spending far too little time with them – but tonight, she was preoccupied. She wondered if Margaery had seen or talked with her mother before heading to the ball with Joffrey 'asshat' Baratheon, she wondered if her were being nice and curteous with her, if he would treat her right. Of course, the answer was most likely no, but still; she hoped Margaery would be all right.

She put the boys to bed at around ten thirty, talked to them about what she'd learned that week about the stars, waited until they had both fallen asleep. She kissed them both, wished them good dreams under her breath, before she retreated to her own room, and practically jumped on her phone. There were no new messages; the last she had received being from Jon telling her they would be home at around eleven. She put on her pjs, brushed her teeth, washed her face, and went to bed, all the while pondering if she should text Margaery, if she should ask Ygritte for a full report about how the dance was going, if she should just shut her eyes and wait for a morning update.

In the end, because she was too wired to sleep, Sansa got up and tackled her AP politics homework. They had to write an essay about change : either a specific change they would want to see brought to any government office in King's Landing and why, a change they would like to see in society as a whole, or a more drastic change. Sansa already knew just what she wanted to write about : she wanted to write about powerful women, and how society needed to change its patriarchial views on the role of women, and not just in politics. After all, every powerful woman Sansa knew was powerful because of a man, not for their own merit : her mother was powerful because her husband was prime minister; Cersei Baratheon was powerful thanks to her marriage, and so on. It irritated her to no end, and she spent most of her night researching leading ladies in science, medicine, politics; she heard the boys come home, she heard her parents come home – and by two in the morning, Sansa had a finished essay that would only need the light of day to be corrected.

She finally went to sleep around that time, her mind exhausted, and was awakened around seven by an hyperactive Rickon followed by Arya, who were both wondering why she hadn't made breakfast that morning.

“I'll be there in a minute.” Sansa slurred, hiding under her covers.

“But I'm hungry !”

Rickon was dancing on her bed, almost shouting, followed by Arya's laugh, and didn't stop until Sansa was actually up and ready to come down.

 

Saturday passed without any news from Margaery, and so did Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon. By Sunday evening, Sansa had lost all hope of Margaery coming along with them to Winterfell, but was still upset over having no texts or no calls from her. She was ready to burst with frustration at having had no news when she heard the doorbell ring.

It had been a sucky week-end weather wise, at least by King's Landing standards. Sea wind had been strong, hostile, and the sky had taken a dark colour; yet schoolkids had been canevassing residential district to sell cookies, to promote concerts and benefits and recitals, or to ask people to donate money for various charities. It was a tradition, and every household knew to keep cash around during that particular week end. It made the rich feel good about themselves, and it made kids happy to do their part.

The Stark doorbell had been ringing incessantly over the last weekend, and Catelyn, Bran and Sansa had been on door duty while Arya, Jon and Robb had accompanied Rickon on his own tour of the neighbourhood. Catelyn may have bought that during the firt half of the afternoon, but it was around seven now, and she had been starting to worry, which, in turn, had worried Sansa. She prayed the door simply had a child or two waiting behind it and not bad news.

When she opened the door, though, a very discheveled looking Margaery, with red eyes and a red nose, was standing hunched, arms crossed over a hoodie.

“Hi.” she sniffled.

Sansa frowned, but answered softly. “Hey. Do you want to come in ?”

Margaery nodded, then passed Sansa as this one moved away.

“So my brother is already out of town,” the Tyrell girl gulped as soon as the door was closed, “and I don't have anyone else to turn to that knows about -”

“I just had your brother on the phone, and he promised they would be home by eight.” Catelyn waltzed in, unaware that Sansa was no longer alone, and interrupted Margaery. “Oh, I'm sorry.” she exclaimed, after having realized her mistake.

“That's alright. Maybe I should just go.” Margaery tried to smile, then started to turn around.

Sansa grabbed her by the wrist to stop her.

“Margaery, you're scaring me. Tell me what's happened ? Please ?” she pleaded, softly.

After a long silence, during which Margaery started to tear up and Catelyn approached them both, frowning, the older girl finally dropped the bomb.

“I told my mum. It just kind of slipped out – she was pushing me to – I couldn't hide it. I'm sorry.”

“Gods-” Sansa whispered.

“She kicked me out.” Margaery broke down. “What am I going to do ?”

Without thinking, Sansa took Margaery in her arms, held her tight while she cried on her shoulder. She looked over at Catelyn, who looked stricken and sad, and the two of them patiently waited until Margaery stopped sobbing.

They took her to the kitchen where Sansa made her hot tea, and where Catelyn took her into her arms.

“I'm sorry we're meeting like this.”

Margaery chuckled, then stepped away.

“And I'm sorry I barged in on you like this.”

“Don't worry about it. I have six children, and they're always bringing people home. We're used to children barging in.”

“Mum !” Sansa exclaimed, making both Catelyn and Margaery giggle.

Catelyn sweetly and softly tok Margaery's hands in hers, smiling a little.

“If you're comfortable with it, I will go and talk to your mother. At least get you some clothes, maybe your phone, or a computer.”

“You don't have to do that.” Margaery shook her head.

“I won't, if you don't want me to.”

The Tyrell girl looked down for a minute before looking back up as Sansa put a mug beside her. She glanced at Sansa before looking at her mother, nodding silently.

“Very well.” Catelyn stood up. “Sansa, you're in charge of Sunday dinner, please scold your brothers and sister as they come in.” She kissed the top of her daughter's head. “I'll talk to your father on the way.” She took a stunned Margaery in her arms. “And please make sure Bran bathes before dinner.”

“Yes, mum.”

After smiling as reassuringly as she could at the both of them, Catelyn was gone.

“You okay ?” Sansa inquired.

Margaery took a deep breath. “No. What am I going to do, Sansa ?”

“I don't know.”

In front of the girl she liked, Sansa felt unsettled, disarmed. She didn't know the words to make her feel better, the words that could make it all okay. She didn't even know if such words existed. All she could do was to take her in her arms, cradle her as she sobbed, hold on tight for as long as was needed.

Margaery eventually calmed down somewhat, but refused to move on from their embrace, even after Bran joined in and their two dogs whined until someone paid attention to them, even as her tea grew cold; she held Sansa until the door closed and Ned came into the kitchen. The dogs immediately went to him, wiggling their tails wildly. Margaery hid her face, tried to make herself presentable, and, with only a swift gesture and a look, Sansa sent her little brother to the bathroom.

“Miss Tyrell, I presume ?”

Ned stepped to them, his hand extended, making Sansa giggle silently.

“Margaery, please. I'm sorry to impose on your family during Sunday dinner.”

They shook hands formally before Ned pulled her in for a quick hug, surprising both girls. He smiled down at Margaery sweetly, then hugged his own daughter, kissing the same spot his wife had kissed a few minutes prior.

“Are you all right ?”

“I'm good, dad. Don't worry about me.”

Ned turned to Margaery. “How about you ?”

“I'm all right, thank you sir.”

“Ned. Please. After all, I understand you will be staying with us for a while.”

Margaery frowned. “I'm sorry ?”

“Now, you may sleep in Sansa's bedroom for tonight, but starting tomorrow, stricly no more bed sharing. Girlfriend/Boyfriend policy.”

Sansa snorted, and Margaery smiled, amused.

“Now, if you girls will excuse me, I have to go make sure everything is ready for tomorrow.”

As he passed Margaery, he hugged her once more. “Welcome to the family, Margaery Tyrell.”

“Thank you. You don't know how good that sounds.”

Ned smiled. “I do, actually.”

With a last smile towards his beaming daughter, Ned left the room, leaving the two girls alone.

“Well then,” Sansa started, “if you're part of this family, you have to help me make dinner. It's the rules.”

Margaery laughed. “Happily. Although, fair warning, I have never cooked a day in my life.”

“That's okay, I'll teach you. For now, you can just set the table.”

“Thank you.” Margaery stated, softly.

“For what ? I haven't done anything.”

Margaery shrugged. “Just thank you.”

 


	6. December, part III

Catelyn still wasn't home when Robb, Jon, Arya and Rickon arrived, all in various states of cleanliness. Arya and Rickon were muddy from head to toe, discheveled and grinning, their two older siblings carrying their shoes and socks, urging them to drop their clothes in the washing machine right away. They had started groaning and protesting, that is until they locked eyes with Sansa, who had her hands on her hips and her eyesbrows lifted, and was silently ordering them to obey. Sighing, they turned back on their heels and headed to the bathrooms, and Jon and Robb laughed.

“You're such a mum.” Robb joked.

While Sansa and Margaery finished dinner, Jon went to help Rickon with showering and Robb went to put the kids' clothes in the washing machine – and, before long, they were all, but Catelyn, gathered around the table.

“So, Margaery” Arya loudly asked over the table, “are you coming with us tomorrow ?”

Stunned, Margaery looked over at Sansa, who was looking back at her. “Hmm – I don't know.”

“What are you doing here, then ?” Bran wondered.

Jon and Robb were silently turning their heads from Arya to Margaery to Bran, then back to Margaery as though they were following a tennis match; Sansa was looking down at her plate, turning redder by the minute; Margaery opened her mouth in a perfect o.

“Are you here for a booty call ?” Arya excitedly shouted.

“Arya !” Sansa exclaimed.

“Arya Stark, language.” Ned calmly warned his youngest, who chose to ignore them both altogether, making Jon and Robb laugh silently in their shirts.

“Oh, come on. I've seen how the two of them slobber all over each other at school.”

“Arya !” Sansa repeated.

“There is no slobbering, nowhere, at any time of the day. Ever.” Margaery quickly stuttered in Ned's direction.

Ned laughed. “Don't worry, miss Tyrell. I've been young. I remember.” He winked in Sansa's direction, who was now as red as the beets in tonight's salad.

“Oh, Gods.” she muttered under her breath.

The good humour subsided until Catelyn came home, bags in hand. Everyone instantly went silent, Robb and Jon staring from their mother to Sansa and Margaery; Arya, Bran and Rickon not quite understanding what was going on or why everyone suddenly stopped talking.

Very softly, as though she was expecting the worst, Margaery folded her hands into her lap, and Sansa could see how they red they got as she twisted them together.

“Everybody clean ?” Catelyn almost glared at her younger children until they all nodded in assent. “Everybody's luggage ready ?” she inquired further, to which only Bran, Jon, Robb and Sansa nodded. “Let's eat first, and then the two of you” she addressed Rickon and Arya, “are going to go finish packing immediately. All right ?”

Robb took this as his cue to go start on the meat, getting up from the dinner table as Catelyn circled it to get to her seat, squeezing Margaery's shoulder with a reassuring smile as she passed.

“Eat.” she repeated, rather forcefully, and Jon passed the salad around, Arya starting up a conversation about the three things she was most looking forward to do back at Winterfell.

Ned stared at his wife, frowning, until she shook her head silently; under the table, Sansa reached over to Margaery's lap to take one of her hands in hers, squeezing it quite gently, refusing to let go until Margaery did. They held hands throughout the meal, Sansa hoping to make her feel better, and, if anyone noticed, they said nothing.

After dinner, after the table was cleaned and the dishes done, Sansa pushed her siblings upstairs to get ready for bed, Jon and Robb closely following her. Ned and Catelyn had asked Margaery to stay behind so that they could talk, and Sansa had very reluctantly left them alone.

 

* * *

 

She was in the middle of setting up Ygritte's bed for Margaery when the latter knocked on her door and entered the room. Sansa stood straight.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Margaery called back.

“Are you okay ?”

Margaery took a deep breath. “I don't know. Tired, I guess.”

“Well, I've – I've put together a kit for tonight, if you need it. Towels for the shower, shampoo, lotion, toothbrush, pj's.”

Saying it, Sansa felt incredibly awkward, but she was met by a smile.

“Thank you.” Margaery lifted the bags that had previously been in Catelyn's hands. “Your mum didn't think to raid my bathroom.” She tried to chuckle, but the sound resembled more one of a sob.

Sansa took a few steps forward, almost running to hug her friend, who fell apart between her arms the moment they touched. Margaery cried for a long time, only soothed by Sansa's touch, and her hand on her back.

“The good news is,” she attempted to joke after the sobs and tears died down, “I don't have to make my bags for Winterfell. Time saver.”

Sansa smiled. “You should maybe check them, though. My mum probably didn't think to raid your underwear drawer either.”

Margaery laughed. “Yeah, I'm going to try and not think about your mum raiding my underwear closet.”

Sansa joined her in giggling before Margaery continued.

“I'll go and take that shower now, okay ?”

“Just shout if you need anything.”

“Sansa Stark,” Margaery lifted an eyebrow and smiled, “are you trying to get into the shower with me ?”

Sansa blushed violently, incapable of answering. Margaery only chuckled happily before closing the door between them, leaving Sansa to calm the beating of her heart in peace. She was _not_ trying to get into the bathroom with Margaery, she was only trying to help ! She breathed out, shaking her head.

 

* * *

 

She was reading in her chair by the time Margaery came out.

“Nice pj's.” she called, smiling.

Margaery laughed, turned to her. “You should see what's underneath.”

Again, Sansa blushed bright red, her smile leaving her face, unable to talk back. Margaery laughed harder.

“I'm sorry, you're just so easy to tease.”

Sansa rolled her eyes and closed her book, getting up from her chair, choosing to switch the subject before things could get intense.

“Do you need me to lend you a suitcase ?”

“Please, if you have one.”

“Sure.”

She'd already gone and fetched it from the attic, cleaned it up in the kitchen, and she'd put it next to her bed just in case – she had wanted to be useful, maybe keep Margaery busy so that she wouldn't think about her mother too much, but, as soon as the Tyrell girl walked out of the bathroom, Sansa knew she was in trouble.

Margaery was always beautiful, from the start of school to the end of the afternoon, always made up to show off her assets: the cheekbones, the eyes, the smile. Sansa had noticed - how could she have not ? But tonight, with her hair still damp and all make up off, her cheeks pink from the heat and humidity, Margaery was gorgeous. Breathtaking. She was raw, and real, and she was in Sansa bedroom, and she was going to sleep next to Sansa's bed, and, if Sansa extended her hand, she could _touch_ her. And, as much as it terrified her, it also exhilarated her.

“I'm so nervous about finding out what's in these.” Margaery continued, unaware of Sansa's inner turmoil. “I guess I don't have a choice, right ?”

Without waiting for Sansa's assent, she breathed out slowly, and opened up her bags.

The Stark girl watched her work, having retreated to the safety of her bed, her back to the wall. She tried, as much as she could, to only watch the bags, smile or chuckle when Margaery told a joke, but it was no use : her eyes kept wandering up to Margaery's face, and she kept thinking how lovely she were.

“Earth to Sansa, hello ?” Margaery waved her hand to catch Sansa's attention.

“Hmm ?”

“Are you okay ?” she inquired, putting down her things.

“Yes, I am.” Sansa smiled, hugging her knees.

Margaery watched her for a second before closing the distance between them and sitting next to Sansa, with still some space separating them, sighed.

“Look, I know this is” she seemed to be looking for words, “intense.”

“No it's not that – I mean it _is_ intense, but – I just -” Sansa groaned, looking up at her ceiling before turning to Margaery with her whole body, sitting on her knees. “It's all really knew to me. Liking someone. It's a little -”

“Overwhelming ?”

“Yes.”

Margaery grinned, sending butterflies flutter into Sansa's stomach.

“Not that I'm not glad you're here, I am.” Sansa quickly added. “I really am.”

“Thanks.”

Changing the subject, Sansa asked Margaery what her parents had said to her earlier.

“They told me that I was welcome to stay with you guys for as long as I needed to,” Margaery fiddled with a crease in her pj's, “they said that they would be very happy to take me to Winterfell if I wanted to come, but that, if I wanted to stay, I had to follow the same rules as you and your siblings.”

“That seems fair.”

Margaery nodded. “I've never had rules before, can you believe that ?”

Margaery's laugh sounded a little like a sob.

“I don't believe that.” Sansa exclaimed.

“It's true ! My brothers and I could do whatever we wanted, as long as we made sure it wouldn't tarnish the Tyrell image that my mother had spent her married life trying to cultivate.”

“That sucks, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Margaery shook her head.

Sansa gulped slowly, trying to push words out of her throat that felt stuck. “I'm also sorry that I've put you in this position.”

Margaery stared at her, frowning.

“I mean, without me, you'd be at home tonight.”

Margaery's frown turned deeper. “I'm not sure I understand.”

“We kissed. I kissed you.”

“And ?”

“Isn't that why your mum -”

“Sansa, my mother kicked me out because I told her I was gay. Not because of you specifically.”

“Oh.” Stunned, it was all that Sansa could answer.

Margaery giggled. “Is that a surprise to you ?”

“I just – I hadn't thought about it.” Sansa tried to smile to hide her embarrassment.

Scooting closer to Sansa, Margaery stated, with a huge grin on her lips :

“Well, I am. I'm gay. I'm really, really gay.” She giggled. “Gods, you have no idea how good that feels to say out loud !”

Pulled by Margaery's good humour, Sansa laughed with her.

“I'm so gay,” the Tyrell girl continued, “I've only ever kissed girls.”

“You've never kissed a boy ?”

“No, ew, why would you ever kiss boys ? They're gross.” Margaery grimaced, sending Sansa another wave of hilarity.

“So you haven't kissed Joffrey ?”

“Why would I- Oh, the dance.” Margaery shook her head. “No. I have not kissed Joffrey. I did, however, spend the night wishing I could kiss you again.”

A faint blush appeared on Sansa's cheeks.

“What about you, how was your prom night ?”

“Spent it watching movies with my two little brothers, wishing you were here.” Sansa whispered.

“Look at that,” Margaery joked, “birds of a feather.”

A small silence installed itself between them, during which time two of their hands found each other and they closed the distance that still separated them altogether. Now shoulder to shoulder, Sansa asked Margaery something she had been wondering since the beginning of the school term.

“So how do you know ? If you're gay ?”

Margaery shrugged. “I don't know. For me, it was obvious. It had always been like that.”

“That you liked girls.”

“Yeah. Boys, for me, they've always been so grey – girls were in technicolor. I could never imagine myself kissing anyone else but girls.”

Sansa nodded, but stayed silent.

“You know you have time, right ? To figure all of this out ?” Margaery nudged her with her shoulder.

“I know, it's just -” Sansa sighed. “I wish it was easier.”

“Screw easy.”

“Margaery !” Sansa exclaimed, laughing merrily.

“Nothing good ever comes easy.” Margaery beamed. “Take your time. We're in high school, for crying out loud. There's no need to know who we are yet.”

Sansa agreed, nodding her head.

“Close your eyes.” Margaery commanded. “Imagine yourself kissing somebody.”

Eyes shut, Sansa lifted an eyebrow.

“Who do you imagine kissing ?”

“You.”

Margaery laughed. “I'm serious !”

“So am I !” Sansa opened her eyes back up.

“Okay.” Margaery continued laughing. “Cheater.”

 

* * *

 

Because her father was prime minister and for security reasons, Sansa and her family had had to travel to Winterfell every year since his first election with a private plane. Sansa had never quite liked it, thinking that it was a luxury they could well put aside, but there was no arguing with the Ministry's chief of security – she'd tried.

This year, adding the four additionnal guests, all the dogs and the security staff, the plane would be full – a fact that Catelyn Stark rejoiced in, loving people as much as she did, and so she had baked cookies and gingerbread biscuits all through the night for everyone, including their staff back at the castle.

They met up with Ygritte, Jeyne, Mycah and their parents at the airport – Mycah's parents looked quite fazed to be there -, where the plane took off after about a half an hour of light conversation, reassurances that all children would be looked ater, and promises to have fun responsibly. Of course, those promises would end up being broken in all cases, as the older children already had plans to drink a little more than they should and party a little harder than that, and the younger ones, mainly Arya and Mycah, had already planned to go hiking deep into the forests, find some caves to play in, and maybe spend a night or two sleeping outside. But they were all happy to make promises and reassure their parents, so that they could fly to Winterfell already.

Ned and Catelyn were seated in the front, with their two youngest children, Arya and Mycah; while Jon, Robb, Sansa and their guests were in the back of the plane. Sansa and Ygritte, the youngest of the bunch, had chosen seats a little more isolated, choosing to spend heir time doing their homework – what would be done now wouldn't have to to be done later, they said – whereas the four others talked about the parties they couldn't wait to attend.

 

* * *

 

The Stark castle of Winterfell was, by all accounts, enormous. It contained no less than fifteen bedrooms and nineteen bathrooms, a ballroom, a billiard room, two dining rooms – one for private use and for feasts and huge parties –, a library, and a dozen living rooms. Because it was so big, and unlike their house in King's Landing, the Starks employed two dozen people, from the chamber staff to the kitchen staff, to the outdoor staff, all locally employed and from some of the neighbourhood poorer families. The chief of staff, a man named Vayon Poole, had worked for them his whole life, and was dedicated to the family – a feeling that was shared by most emplyees, thanks to the Stark's kindness, generosity and open-hand policies. Most of them had seen Jon, Robb and Sansa grow up, but Arya had been very young when they had left for King's Landing, Bran in her mother's womb and Rickon only an idea – which meant that, whenever the three oldest wanted something, it was usually quickly accomplished thanks to them.

Bran, Arya, Mycah and Rickon would still be lodged in the East Wing, with Ned and Catelyn sleeping not far from them, just to keep an eye out – but the three oldest, Ygritte, Jeyne and Margaery had the West Wing to themselves, with a private entry if you knew where to look – they all did – and a direct line to the kitchen and the outside accomodations. They had achieved such freedom by winning their parent's trust and by being responsible children, a feat they intended to keep for another year. Conforming to their parents' rule, Sansa, Robb and Jon would not share their bedroom with their guests – although Jeyne had been Robb's girlfriend for so long that she could get a pass if they had wanted – but would rather be in separate guest rooms.

Jon and Robb had the rooms farthest down he corridor, next to one another, with a conjoined private bathroom; Sansa's room was opposite, her bathroom opposite theirs, although hers was private; Jeyne and Margaery's room was two doors down, a living room between them and Sansa, Jon and Robb, with their bathroom across the hall. Ygritte would be housed with Sansa, as she had been for the last two years, though Sansa had a feeling she would not be there every night.

 

* * *

 

 

They had reached Winterfell in the mid afternoon, all present staff waiting for them in the hall, and everyone had greeted everyone warmly no matter the rank or the age. Sansa was more than blissed to be back, and she could tell by the grins on all her sibling's faces that she wasn't the only one. By the time conversation ended, dinner was only an hour away, and everyone wanted to hurry in unpacking and maybe get to have some fun before they had to go down to eat.

“Is it always this cold up north ?”

Margaery was wrapped in a wool cardigan and a big shawl around her shoulders, her nose looking a little red.

“Don't worry,” Sansa beamed, “the house gets warmer.”

“Yes, about that -” Margaery stepped closer into Sansa's bedroom – Sansa was hanging her clothes in her closet – and sat on the bed. “there are no heaters in the room. I checked.”

Sansa turned to her guest. “Actually, the hot springs all around the estate provide warmth through the pipes, so we don't actually need the heaters. It just takes time because the pipes have been closed in this part of the castle since our last visit.”

“Hot springs ?”

“Hmm-mm.”

The hot pools were actually part of Sansa's favourite Winterfell places, especially the little one she had discovered deep within the forest. It was hidden under big trees, but sunlight could still get through; it was private, and no one ever came to bother her.

“Okay. What other treasures do you guys have here ?”

Sansa chuckled. “This whole place is full of them. There are secret passageways all over the house, hidden rooms that I'm pretty sure were for meeting secret lovers, there's the greenhouse, also heated by the pools and where we cultivate all the produce that we eat here, the paths into the forest, the caves, the towers, the crypt.”

Margaery looked flabbergasted at the list.

“I could go on.” Sansa added.

“I'm sure you could. No wonder why you love this place so much.”

Sansa smiled. “Yeah.”

“You're going to show me everything, right ?” Margaery got up, stepping towards Sansa.

“Everything you want to see.”

“What else is there in store for me ?”

“Shopping.” Sansa pointed to Margaery's poor winter clothes. “You're going to need new clothes if you want to survive the snow and the wind.”

“Hmm.” Margaery was slowly closing the distance between them. “What else ?”

“Erm -” Sansa's heart started to beat a little faster, a little wilder. “we'll help my mum with the New Year party.”

“Sure.”

The two girls were only inches away from each other when Margaery took Sansa's hands in hers. Sansa suddenly felt very warm, and she somehow knew the pipes had nothing to do with that; she gulped, unable to tear her eyes away from Margaery, who looked like she felt quite hot, too.

“Can I kiss you now, Sansa ?”

“Okay.”

The answer came a little faster than she would have liked, but she didn't want to give Margaery a chance at changing her mind. Margaery smiled, her face getting closer to Sansa's, and Sansa's head was about to burst with questions : she'd never kissed somebody she liked before, never kissed anybody that mattered, what if Margaery didn't like it ? What if she did it wrong ? What was she supposed to do, just let her ? Was she supposed to do something in particular, was Margaery waiting for something ? Her heart went crazy in her chest, the butterflies were flying all over her stomach, and everything inside her exploded when her lips met Margaery's.

She closed her eyes, pushed back against the other girl's mouth, hoping it would last forever, but soon they were gone, much too soon, and Sansa took them back, over and over, until Sansa's hands were on Margaery's waist and Margaery's arms were around Sansa's neck, and despite her closed eyes, Sansa saw fireworks.

They got interrupted, though, by cheers – stunned, the two girls turned to discover Ygritte, Jeyne, Robb and Jon on the doorstep, applauding and cheering, with huge, goofy grins on their faces.

“Oh my Gods.” Margaery hid her face in her shawl, letting go of Sansa but still against her.

“Seriously, guys ?” Sansa protested.

“We _hate_ to interrupt you guys,” Robb stated, which owned him a slight hit on the chest by his girlfriend, “but it's time for dinner.”

“And so you guys all joined in voyeurism ?” Sansa joked, feeling too happy to be angry.

She felt Margaery laugh against her.

“Of course.” Ygritte beamed.

“You guys are the worst.”

“Welcome to the family, Margaery.” Robb came in to hug the newcomer. “We're severely codependant. You're going to love it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, it means the world ♥


	7. December, final part

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updating took so long, I hope you'll enjoy.

Days passed in a hurry, melting into one another, filled with crazy adventures and cosy fireplace talks about the future and dance parties with neighbourghood teens. Sansa took Margaery skiing for the first time, she took her hiking, she took her sleighing – Lady following them everywhere, running in the snow. They'd come home before sundown, with whiplashed cheeks from the wind, red and running noses, Margaery cold as ice but smiling warmly, Sansa blissful and relaxed; and they would settle in the kitchen with hot tea, basking in the warmth of the room, conversing with the cook and helping her with dinner.

They'd spend their evenings after dinner either playing games with the children and the parents or playing video games in one of the upstairs living rooms, sometimes joined by other teens, competing in tournaments and performing dares when losing. Other times, they all scattered throughout the house, passing the time alone or in pairs, Sansa trying to pack as much time spent with her brothers and Ygritte as she spent with Margaery.

Everyone had accepted Margaery in a heartbeat, accepted that she and Sansa held hands, that Sansa had introduced her as her girlfriend ever since they had arrived at Winterfell – they'd talked about it on the plane in hushed tones before Robb pushed them to take the leap; “ _If it works, it works, and if it doesn't, then you tried._ ” - and everyone treated her the same way as they had treated Jeyne and Ygritte. Nobody asked them intrusive or rude questions, nobody told her that the only reason they liked each other was because they just hadn't met the right guy yet, and nobody told Sansa that it was just a phase while smiling a condescending smile, as Margaery had experienced in the South when she first came out to her friends du ring a  humanitarian trip. All in all, Sansa was lucky, and she felt it every day. 

She had shown her girlfriend her favourite shops in town, all the tourist-y attractions, her favourite coffee spot; she took her on a grand tour of all of her childhood hiding spots in the house and on the estate in which they stayed when Margaery needed some privacy or when she was tired of their constant group outing.

“I love that you guys are so close, but I just need a little us time right now. Some peace and quiet, and maybe your hand in mine.” she'd tell Sansa, and Sansa always knew just where to take her.

They kissed softly in the silence, taking the time to get to know each other's rhythm and sensitive spots, and Sansa always felt like Margaery left bright red marks on her skin wherever her hands ended up. They kissed standing up, sitting down, and, one time when they were hiding under the roof, they kissed laying on the floor – Sansa could swear she could see stars every time.

They never talked about what was waiting for them back in king's Landing, about Margaery's homelessness and about the students and the school's reaction to Margaery and Sansa openly dating – at least Sansa _hoped_ they wouldn't hide it, but she would if Margaery asked – about what Margaery's mum was saying to people about her daughter; they instead talked about the stars and the sun and the snow, they talked about music and Sansa played her piano for her, they talked about movies and Margaery's adventures and travels, about books and food and politcs, they talked about the history of Winterfell and about their future selves. Margaery confessed, for the first time aloud, that she wanted to become a pediatrician and work in a free clinic and that she didn't care about money, her family always had money and they weren't happier for it. She turned around to look at Sansa, still holding her hand, and Sansa looking up at the ceiling, and they were lying on the floor again, and Sansa told her that it was a lovely thing to want to do, and that she was really happy that Margaery had found her calling.

Margaery almost never talked to her brothers, despite them knowing what had happened, because she didn't feel like them hearing how sad they were for her. She wouldn't answer the phone when Loras called, even though he called a lot, and she would turn to Sansa and tug at her sleeve until they were alone and Margaery could cry in silence, refusing to talk about it afterwards. Sansa didn't know how to help, and it drove her crazy.

“How do you feel about bathing outside in freezing weather ?” she asked her one night, a couple of days before New Year, grinning from one ear to the other.

Margaery frowned. “Like you're trying to get rid of me.”

“I'm not.” Sansa chuckled. “I want to take you to the hot springs.”

“You want me to undress, outside, and then get wet ?”

“Yes.” she beamed, to which Margaery laughed.

“Not happening.”she crossed her arms on her chest.

“Oh come on, I swear you'll be warm enough.” Sansa pleaded.

Margaery shook her head.

“It's really good for relaxation. Better than a hot tub.” And, to finish convincing her, she whispered in her ear : “It's so private, we can make out for as long as we want, with no one to shout for us or ask where we've gone.”

Margaery groaned, giving up. “Fine. But if I get sick, you have to take care of me.”

 

* * *

 

Her swimsuit hidden under five layers of clothing, a hot water bottle ready to be filled for the way back home in hand, Margaery followed Sansa deep into the forest, pausing only to grumble under her breath and to steady herself against a tree. Sansa had guessed that Margaery was in a bad mood, although her girlfriend hadn't said anything of the sort; she only held her hand and lead her through on her private path to warmth and comfort.

“Okay, we're almost there.” Sansa was almost giddy with excitement. “Close your eyes !”

Margaery rolled her eyes before she obeyed. “Don't let me fall.”

But, once Sansa had taken her to her secret hot pool, sang “Tada!” and Margaery opened her eyes, Sansa had a feeling her bad mood had been instantly forgotten. She heard her girlfriend gasp with delight before laughing.

“It's gorgeous.” Margaery marveled.

“Isn't it ?”

The pool was protected on three sides by the bark of a tree that had, over hundreds of years, grown against it and sheltered it, and Sansa could swear that every year, the bark advanced, and that one day, it would stand over the whole pond. But, for now, it was secluded and inviting, in the middle of nowhere and protected against the wind – and even Margaery couldn't resist being drawn in by the atmosphere.

There was a natural hook on a nearby tree that Sansa used to hold her clothes as she swam, and she'd brought towels, flip flops to walk to and from the pool, and even snacks if Margaery was hungry. She hoped she had thought about everything, because she truly didn't want to be the reason why her girlfriend would never come back to this place. Without waiting, she took off her coat, Margaery looking at her like she was crazy, then undressed to her suit.

“Come on.” she urged the Southerner with a grin, tying her hair into a bun. “I promise I won't let you freeze.”

Margaery's gaze lingered over her for a second, making Sansa feel flushed and warm despite the bitter cold, before she started to take off her own clothes. Immediately looking away, shy and blushing, the younger girl dipped into the pond without thinking twice, closing her eyes and smiling, thinking again how great this felt. She swam for a while as Margaery looked, still unsure whether to go through with what she was doing, taking off her clothes one item at a time.

“The slower you go, the colder you'll feel.” Sansa tried to urge her on.

“You promise it's warm ?”

“I promise.” she smiled.

Sighing, Margaery took everything off as quickly as she could, battling the wind and the cold with sharp shrieks, and Sansa couldn't help but marvel at her.

She shouldn't lurk, she knew she shouldn't; but Margaery was so amazingly gorgeous and perfect ! She was tan, but it wasn't too much; she was tall, and slender, but she had round hips where Sansa had sticks, an hourglass figure where Sansa was straight; in short, Margaery was perfect.

“In other conditions,” Margaery exclaimed as she half ran to get in the pool, “I'd let you stare, but it's way too cold out.”

Sansa giggled. “Sorry.”

Coming in, the Southerner let out a small cry of pleasure and surprise – Sansa felt it in her spine, her whole body turned electric – and immediately closed her eyes.

“I'm never going back out.” she exclaimed, making her girlfriend laugh.

“I knew you'd love it.”

Margaery opened her eyes and smiled at Sansa. “Thank you for bringing me here. I know this is a private place, and it's not always easy letting other people in.”

“That's quite all right, I'm ninety eight percent sure you'd never find the way back anyways.” Sansa teased.

Margaery rolled her eyes. “Here I am, trying to be intimate and romantic, and I get shot down.” she let out a dramatic sigh to show Sansa she wasn't really mad. “So sad.”

Sansa giggled for a second, then, approaching the other girl, quieted down.

“Speaking of intimate and romantic, I was wondering if-”

“If ?” Margaery urged her on, scooting closer, too.

“If you were okay with me introducing you as my girlfriend at the party tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Margaery flushed, silent for a minute before looking up at Sansa. “Are you sure ? I mean, it's a lot of people.”

“I know. But -” Sansa looked for words that would appease Margaery. “I've never felt this way about anybody else before, boy or girl. I really, really like you; and if anybody finds fault in that, well, that's quite sad for them, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be with you.”

Margaery smiled softly. “Here I was, thinking I was the one trying to be romantic.”

“Sorry.”

“No, that's- that's okay. I like that you know what you want.” Margaery kissed her girlfriend's shoulder, breathing in. “I envy that.”

“Well,” Sansa sighed, “ _you_ know what to want to become. What job you want. _I_ haven't the faintiest idea.”

“That's superficial.”

“It gives you a purpose.” the Northerner frowned. “Because I'm getting up everyday to go to school, striving towards a University I don't even know will take me, not even sure if it is the right path for me. I want to make my parents proud, but I don't know how.”

“Sansa.” Margaery moved to be opposite her, looking her in the eyes. “You are the kindest, most dedicated person I know. You care about everything and everyone. All the time. You are an ardent anti-bullying advocate, you've successfully and by yourself gotten the school dress code rewritten to the dismay of the ones who inforced it, you've had the school build agendered bathrooms despite everyone telling you it wouldn't be done.”

Margaery's voice was agitated, excited, and she was grinning as she went on.

“I have never met anybody who cared so much about every single person they meet. Hells, I've never met anybody who stood up to the freaking Queen and told her, to her face, that she was wrong. And bigoted.”

Sansa giggled faintly. “Yes, and if her husband hadn't been such a friend of my dad, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead in a ditch.”

“But you did it anyway.” Margaery sighed, calming down. “My point is, your parents are already proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Margaery kissed Sansa's nose, “for taking care of me the past two weeks. I know I haven't been easy.”

“I'm really glad you came with us.”

“Me, too. And I'd love it if you introduce me as you girlfriend tomorrow.”

Sansa beamed. “Can I dance with you, too ?”

“Yes.”

“Can I kiss you at midnight ?”

“Yes.” Margaery giggled.

“Can I kiss you now ?”

“Yes, please.”

Having learned how Margaery kissed and liked to be kissed, Sansa no longer felt any apprehension before their lips met – only the jolts of electricity remained. She could feel them creeping up her spine, in her veins; and her whole body jerked awake when Margaery's hands went around her waist. They kissed slowly, acutely aware of each other's body – it wasn't anything they hadn't done before, kissing and touching like this, alone together and with no disruption in sight, but somehow, everything felt amplified. Margaery's fingers were burning her, her tongue made her shudder, and her brain had shut down. Nothing else mattered but this embrace, right now, and yet neither of them seemed to press further than they had gone before. They enjoyed the moment, the intimacy, as long as it lasted; and soon after they were laughing and Margaery was pesting against the cold, against her girlfriend, as they left the pool and rejoined their clothes, and they left the site hand in hand, both at peace and happy.

 

* * *

 

On December 31st, the whole house was in a frenzy to get ready for the party. The kitchen was slammed, and Arya, Bran and Sansa were doing their best to help them : Arya did the dishes, Bran dried it and put it away, and Sansa was simply everywhere one might need her. Jon, Mycah and Robb were moving furniture, and Margaery, Ygritte and Jeyne were on decorations duty under Catelyn's strict guidance. No one stopped for lunch, and everyone was glad to sent to the showers when four rolled around.

The party was to start at seven, and most guests would be arrived at eight; the children all scattered to get ready – for the older girls, mostly – or grab a late lunch, maybe get some down time before the tipping point of their Winterfell residency. Sansa, Ygritte, Margaery and Jeyne got each other's makeup and hair ready – the ordeal took about two hours and a half, as they were laughing and talking more than they were actually getting ready – and by seven thirty, they were all downstairs and conversing with guests.

Even though she had tried not to, Sansa had lost Margaery in the crowd very early on, as Theon Greyjoy had taken her to his family, joking about how she used to have a crush on him for the third year in a row, and she had been stuck with them for at least ten minutes before she had been able to move on. She greeted every person she passed warmly, stopping here and there to chat lightly about everyone's wish for another great year, all the while trying to locate her girlfriend in the room.

Margaery wore a blue dress clearly meant for a Southern soirée, as the material was thin and almost see through under the harsh lights of the ball room; and Sansa hadn't been able to look away for a long while – Margaery had looked very smug – when she first put it on. She looked radiant, very majestic, and, combined with her easy smiles and charms, Sansa was almost sure she already had every guest she had talked to so far in her pocket. She was on the other end of the room, talking to some students from Castle Black – Jon's college of choice -, looking comfortable and amused. Smiling, Sansa decided to let her be, at least for now, and concentrate on making sure everybody had a good time, that her mother had eaten something, that her father was not stuck talking politics with their neighbours, checked on the dogs, and verified if everything was running smoothly backstage.

All in all, it was a great party; people danced, people laughed, the food and drinks disappeared faster than it could be supplied, and Sansa couldn't stop smiling. She had already answered a dozen times the question of a relationship – whenever she pointed to Margaery, people frowned as though she hadn't understood the question, or went extremely quiet, and used the first excuse they could come up with to leave her side – but she couldn't care less; she was happy, she was in love, and she had a wonderful family, wonderful friends – what else mattered ? She walked around as though she was walking on air, feeding off the party excitement, gladly giving her time to anybody asking for it.

As midnight approached, Sansa once again tried to locate Margaery. After all, she had been promised a kiss ! She found her looking around, grinning as she saw Sansa walking towards her, and the two held hands as soon as they were close enough to.

“Hi.” Sansa breathed.

“Hi.” Margaery repeated. “Having fun ?”

“I am, yes. How about you ?”

“Me too. Although you're a bit too popular for my taste.” she chuckled.

Sansa frowned, not understanding the implication.

“Four guys have asked me if you had a boyfriend.”

“Oh.” _Awkward_. Sansa cleared her throat. “What did you tell them ?”

“I told them that you've been too busy making out with me to think about boys.”

Sansa laughed as Margaery looked on, proud.

“Speaking of,” she went on in a low voice, “I'd really like to kiss you now.”

Sansa blushed, tried to protest. “It's not midnight yet.”

Margaery pouted sadly, giving her girlfriend a wounded puppy look that made Sansa giggle.

“It's just a few minutes till midnight.”

And, as though on cue, Ned Stark tapped on his glass and cleared his throat.

“Friends, Neighbours, Family.” he started after everyone fell silent. “Another year has passed, and tonight, everything starts anew. A new year, with new challenges, new opportunities, and, let's hope, success, happiness and health. This I wish for every single one of you here tonight, and everything you may desire. To a new year.” he held his glass high.

“To a new year !” the whole room clamoured, before all eyes fell on the clock, and a chant began.

“Ten ! Nine ! Eight ! Seven !”

Sansa turned to Margaery, smiling, pulling her closer.

“Six ! Five ! Four !”

Margaery's fingers were resting on Sansa's throat, and Sansa's were on Margaery's hips.

“Three ! Two ! One !”

As the crowd boomed around them with cheers and shouts, the two girls kissed feverishly, tongues moving to an already familiar rhythm, body against body, drowning everything else. They kissed as everyone yelled, they kissed as everyone quieted down, they kissed as conversation started up again.

“Happy New year.” Margaery whispered to her as they fell apart.

“Happy New Year.” Sansa echoed, unabled to stop beaming.

 


End file.
